


Another Way

by Mynuet



Category: Ugly Betty
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mynuet/pseuds/Mynuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: What if Molly didn't die?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting the Stage

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started this in December for the LJ comm's advent, finished it except for the epilogue, and then didn't get back to it for ages and ages. Now that it's finished, I'll put it up a chapter or two at a time, as I feel like it, to give my beta(s) a chance to tell me how they want their shoutouts to read and what they think of the ending. Hope y'all enjoy. :)

_"Sir, I'm your housekeeper. This isn't right."_

_Daniel got to his feet, seizing her hands and kissing the backs of them, one at a time. "Betty, I bless the day my father hired a governess to take care of me. Everything good in my life has been a direct result of your care for me since then. How can it be wrong to want you to continue to care for me, to allow me to care for you in return, for the rest of our lives and with the blessing of God?"_

_"God might bless us, but society never would," she said. "How could I live, knowing I'd been responsible for you being cast aside by every good society that you should naturally be a part of?"_

_"You are the only society I care for." His voice was deep and rumbly, the type of tone that always made her stomach flutter. "And if your only objections are what others might say, then there can be no real objection."_

_Turning away from him, she could feel tears running down her cheeks, the heat of them shocking against her cold skin. "Sir, I_ can't _. I_ mustn't _, and you're wicked to try to make me."_

_He whirled her around and, for as much as she was trying to fight against it, the feel of him crushing her against his broad chest made her shiver and melt in his arms. His lips were descending to hers and, God help her, she wanted it, craved it, hungered for his kiss in a way that left her weak and breathless and yearning. No matter how wrong it was, this was what she wanted, the only thing she wanted, and her hands flew to his shoulders, holding on to him as she waited through the endless seconds it took for him to look at her face and come nearer, nearer, his breath fanning across her face, the blue of his eyes burning with the intensity of his feelings..._

Betty woke up with a start, her heart racing. What was causing these dreams? And why didn't she ever get a damn kiss before she woke up? 

Sitting up, she shook her head hard to clear it. That was exactly the wrong thing to think, and she chalked it up to how frustrated she felt physically. She and Matt were taking it slow and even though this time it was her idea to hold off on the sex, she still didn't have any outlet. And if her sneaky brain tried telling her that it had never been as good with Matt as just the dreams of Daniel were, well, wasn't fantasy always better than reality?

With an exasperated noise at her own silliness, she tossed the covers off and climbed out of bed, heading for the shower. Everything would be fine. Obviously, rereading Jane Eyre to de-stress from the late nights and early mornings at work was affecting her dreams. Her brain cast Daniel because he was pretty much the only person she was seeing on a regular basis. She just needed to schedule some time with Matt, that was all. Once she saw him, she'd remember why she loved him, and forget about how she'd felt in Daniel's arms.

***

Daniel groaned as he woke up, his back aching and his muscles tense. He couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming about, just that it was a wrench to leave the dream for reality. He'd fallen asleep on the couch again, the television making a soft sort of white noise in the background. The first few times it had happened, Molly had woken him in the middle of the night and brought him to bed. Lately, she hadn't bothered, just like he hadn't bothered coming home for dinner when he knew they'd just sit there and struggle for something to say to each other.

How had they gotten to this? The days after she'd gone into remission had been like an extended honeymoon, even better than when they had first gotten together. They'd gone to Tahiti and laughed and played in the surf, made love on the balcony of their cottage on the beach, and eaten so much that Molly teased him about getting a little pudge and he'd been amazed at how quickly she didn't look sick anymore. 

It had all fallen apart when they got home. Her apartment seemed empty at first without the medical equipment they'd needed when it looked like she was close to the end, but soon it seemed cramped as he moved more of his things in. They'd talked about finding someplace else, but this was close to her work, and he still wasn't in a financial position to make the kind of large capital expenditure that would be necessary to buy something bigger in a comparable neighborhood. They'd just managed to buy Hartley out, despite Connor still being "Missing with the Meade Millions," as the Post had put it in the morning's paper. Molly had flinched and Daniel had tossed the paper into the garbage, but it was another thing they didn't talk about.

Maybe that was the problem - they needed to talk. This week was going to be a nightmare, with a buildup toward Mode's first Pre-Fall show and collection, and then it would be Christmas. They had been planning to do some followup and preparation for the new year, but maybe he'd have Betty clear his calendar. He and Molly could go back to Tahiti. They could make it work - they had to. It didn't make sense for them to get a miracle and have her live, only to then have it all fall apart because they couldn't seem to remember why they loved each other.


	2. Workaholics

Blearily, Betty looked at the layout in front of her and said, "I think there's a difference between these two shades of pink. I don't know whether I'm hallucinating or whether I've finally snapped and gotten crazy enough to start seeing fashion."

"Ah, but do you have an opinion on which is better? Because you can't develop the fashion gene without having strong opinions on what's good and what's hideous." Daniel was barely holding back his laughter, and then lost it when she frowned at the layout and jabbed a finger at one of the two.

"That's the one I think is hideous, so we should probably go with it." She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him as he laughed. "Hey, it's not like I haven't learned _anything_."

Stretching, he decided it felt good and stood up. "Come on. Let's go eat something - we'll come back to this after an hour away and maybe I'll have an opinion on the dueling pinks, too."

"We really don't have time," she said, but looked longingly at the door. "Do we?"

"Come on, we'll think better after a break," he said. "We've still got a lot to get done, but we'll do it better if our brains are working."

"We shouldn't..."

He walked around and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder as she shrieked. "You know, you're not actually that heavy."

"Daniel!" She thumped him in the back, hard enough to actually hurt. "You put me down _right now_ or I'm going to--"

"Come to dinner with me?" he said. "Because that's the only way I'm not dragging you out of here."

She started laughing and beating her fists against his back, although gently this time, only playful taps. "You're being a _goofball_. Put me down and we'll order in, and that's my final offer."

"Did someone order takeout?" Daniel almost dropped her at the surprise of hearing someone else in the office at that hour, and Betty craned her neck to see it was two someones, Matt and Molly, each holding a plastic bag. Daniel's face lit up and he started towards Molly before remembering to put Betty down. 

Betty felt a bit breathless, and she ignored everything confusing running through her mind in favor of dredging up a smile and hugging Matt. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

"You never leave this building anymore," Matt said. "So I thought I'd come see if I could actually spend a few minutes with my girlfriend, and I brought food to bribe you into allowing it. Daniel's wife had the same thought."

Beaming at him, Betty said, "We were just arguing about whether to take a break. It looks like we have an answer."

"Yes, I could tell you were arguing," Matt said. "That's what all my arguments look like."

"Since when do Daniel and Betty do things like other people?" Molly smiled from Daniel's embrace. "Come on, let's find someplace to sit and eat. I'm starving."

Betty took Matt by the hand and led him to the conference room, with Daniel and Molly following behind. "I can't believe how long it's been since I ate anything. I really am becoming a Mode Girl."

"Not in that sweater," Daniel said, and they were all laughing and talking as they settled down to eat. 

Betty hesitated as Matt opened the bag and revealed sushi, but then Daniel was reaching past Molly to grab Betty's tray. "I'll take this. Betty doesn't like sushi - butterfly related trauma."

Molly smiled a little stiffly, but then handed Betty the dinner she'd brought from Craft. "I guess this is for you, then."

"Thanks." Betty inhaled the aroma of perfectly prepared steak and almost moaned in bliss. "Real food - I almost can't believe it still exists."

"I guess we know what to buy next time," Matt said, getting out his chopsticks. "Did you want to trade, too?"

Molly laughed. "I don't know. I was craving red meat, but that toro looks amazing."

"You can have some of mine," Daniel said, offering it up with his own chopsticks. It was somehow too intimate to watch him feeding it to her, and Betty tore her eyes away and focused determinedly on Matt. 

Somehow, over the course of dinner, she and Daniel ended up talking about the special issue again, and by the time Betty noticed, the remainder of her dinner was cold and Matt and Molly were deep in conversation. Whispering to Daniel, she said, "Do you think we should go home? I mean, we've got so much to do, but..."

"I really need to get this done as soon as we can," Daniel said, then looked at Molly again. "I guess a few hours won't hurt, though. How early can you come in tomorrow?"

Fighting off the urge to whimper, Betty said, "How early do you need me?"

He looked at her and she wondered just how bad she looked, because his eyes softened and he said, "Why don't you take tomorrow off? I can handle things."

"What? Daniel, no, you need me," she said. "I can't let you do it alone - it'll set you back from your schedule."

Daniel had opened his mouth to answer when they both noticed there wasn't any other noise in the room and turned to see Matt and Molly looking at them. Betty felt herself shrinking away from the look on Matt's face, but he came over and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you later, okay? I wouldn't want to interfere with your work - I know how important it is to you."

"Matt..." She trailed off, because there was nothing wrong with what he'd said, nothing to point to in his tone, and she didn't want to start an argument over something that could just be in her head. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She sighed as he left and then busied herself with cleaning up the remains of their dinner while Molly and Daniel said their goodbyes. They looked perfect together, Daniel's forehead resting against Molly's and his hands around her waist. Betty felt a spike of envy shoot through her, but it was probably just for the fact that they were so happy.

Once Molly had gone and they were settled in front of the layout again, Daniel scrutinized the two shades of pink, but he said, "So, things are going well for you and Matt?"

"Oh, you know. We're taking things slow." His brow furrowed and, determined to head off his concern, she said, "How great is it that Molly brought you dinner? You guys just have so perfect a marriage - it's an inspiration."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's great." It was the shifty, not quite telling the truth voice, and Betty grabbed his arm. "Daniel, what's wrong? It's not-- She's not sick again, is she?"

He didn't look at her, but he didn't pull away, either. "Nothing like that. It's just... Things are different now. I guess we just have to get used to it."

"Different how? Daniel, if you need to go... I mean, we don't really _need_ to do a special--"

"Yes, we do." He put his hand over hers and said, "Molly will be okay. I'll figure out a way to make it work, but we need to get this finished first."

Her lips pressed together as she tried to think of what to say. "Well. Then, I guess we need to get back to work."

Smiling, he squeezed her hand. "You're the one person in the world I can always count on. Thanks, Betty."

"You too," she said, her throat feeling like it was closing up. 

***


	3. Ultimatums

_I need at least five minutes of your time, just for me._

Betty frowned at the phone, looking at the message from Matt and wondering what to think about it. He knew what it was like at Mode when there was a deadline to meet, but she'd been trying to keep in touch via phone or email even when they couldn't see each other. She wasn't sure what to think of his message. _What's up?_

_We need to talk. Now._

It was hard to bite down the annoyance she felt, but she sighed and stood, walking into Daniel's office. "Hey, is it all right if I take a break for a while?"

"Sure, but come look at this." He held up a photograph and said, "I think I've got our hook for the section on eco-friendly fashions."

Considering that section had been her idea, and that he had previously been unsure about including it all, she grinned. "Really? So we're going with it?"

"Come see." It was a crude photoshop of a hot actress's face on one of the test shots they'd done, with a quote pasted on that talked about how important it was to commit to renewable resources.

"Uh. Daniel?" Betty looked from the page to his enthusiastic face, wondering what she was missing.

His grin just got wider, and he said, "The quote? It's from her. She had a photo call and someone uploaded a cell phone video of her answering some questions."

Betty couldn't help squealing. "I should be mad you were goofing off, but that's amazing! If we can get her to do a photoshoot--"

"We could expand the eco-friendly section, we'd just have to cut back some of the other pages - and we might get some more advertising!"

Raising her hand, Betty said, "That definitely calls for a high five."

He slapped his palm against hers with a grin. "When you get back from your break, can you see about booking her? I'll start working on a list of people we could pull in to advertise and how we could fit it in. Maybe run a cost projection on just adding more pages."

"Break? What-- Oh." Betty grimaced and pulled her phone out. "Don't worry, I'll get right on it."

As soon as she was back at her desk, she called Matt while looking through her contacts to find a way to get a hold of the actress. Who was her agent? Pulling up IMDb as the phone rang, she was almost surprised to get an answer. "Hey, Matt? Did you need to talk right away?"

The pause was long enough to pull Betty's attention away, and finally he said, "What does Daniel need now?"

"It's not Daniel," she said. "It's just, this great opportunity came up, but I need to follow up as soon as possible--"

"This isn't going to work," he said. "You... I'm not even _on_ your list of priorities."

A knot settled into the pit of her stomach, and she said, "Matt, it's not like that. You know I love you, and you _are_ \--"

"Not enough to get some time with you," he said. "Daniel just says the word and you're right there, but--"

"Matt, stop!" She took a deep breath and said, "What's gotten into you? You know my career is important - this is my shot to show what I can do as a writer and an editor. This can open doors for me, both here and at other magazines. It's about _me_ , not about Daniel."

Matt's voice was harsh as he said, "What happened to your blog? To applying at other magazines? Why hasn't Daniel's wife seen him in a whole week, and why can't I get _five minutes_ with my girlfriend?"

Feeling besieged, Betty said, "Where is this coming from? I'm talking to you now, and you know what the market is like, especially in the print field. At least I _have_ a job."

"And I don't, right? Is that what you mean?"

"What? I'm the one who encouraged you to go to art school! Matt, _please_. We can work things out - I know we can." Betty was struggling not to cry, wondering why it seemed like she couldn't have anything in her life work out like it should without something else falling apart. 

This time the pause was even longer, and he said, "Leave work. Come over to my place and have dinner with me. Treat me like I matter to you."

"Matt, of _course_ you matter to me, but--"

"No buts, Betty. You have to make your decision." He hung up before she could say anything else and the tears started flowing. 

Daniel was there almost instantly, holding out a box of tissues. "Betty, is... is everything all right?"

Taking several tissues, she said, "Everything's fine. Perfect. Couldn't be better."

"All right, so that was a stupid question." Squatting down so his eyes were level with hers, he said, "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing," Betty said. "It's just... Matt wants me to just drop everything to be with him, but we need to get this done, and it's not fair! I don't understand why he's being so unreasonable!"

Daniel's mouth tightened, but his voice was soothing when he said, "You know, I can finish up here tonight. It's too late to make a lot of calls, anyway."

"But..." She trailed off, not sure what to do. "I can't leave you on your own."

"Hey, I'm a big boy. I can be left without a babysitter." He stood up and said sternly, "Am I your boss or not? I order you to go home."

Wiping at her eyes, she said, "You have to go home, too, then. You need some rest."

"I promise I will get some rest," he said. "Maybe even do a little goofing off without incurring your wrath."

That made her smile a little, and she said, "If you keep having brilliant epiphanies when you do it, you can goof off all the time."

"I'm going to remind you that you said that." Holding out his hand to her, he pulled her to her feet as soon as she took it. "Go home, Betty. I'll see you in the morning."

Impulsively, she gave him a hug, then backed off quickly when she realized it felt different now, that she was aware of him as a man when she definitely, positively should not be. Those dreams were horrible, and she needed to hurry up and finish this project and fix things with Matt so she'd stop having them. "Goodnight, Daniel. And... thanks. For everything."

He watched her go, her shoulders hunched determinedly in her bright fuchsia coat. It made him smile, and wonder if he'd done the right thing. He wanted her to be happy, and she said that Matt made her happy, but it seemed from Daniel's perspective that he made her pretty unhappy, a lot more than he should. Betty deserved a lot better than that.

With a sigh, he turned back toward his office. There might be some people still in their office on the west coast, and there'd definitely be people awake in Tokyo, where the photo call had been. Before he spent too much time rearranging the spread, he needed to nail down whether there was a reason to do it. Besides, if he could make it happen, Betty would be overjoyed, and he wanted to see her happy and bouncing again. She'd been too stressed out lately to do much laughing.

About an hour later, he looked up from his notepad to see Molly sitting in the chair across from his desk, her hands clasped in front of her as she watched him. He smiled and raised a hand to say hi, but she didn't smile back. He wrapped up the call as quickly as he could, then stood to walk around the desk and kiss her cheek - she turned her lips away from him. 

"You didn't check your messages." Her voice was quiet, but it sent a dagger of fear through him. It was the same tone of voice she'd had when she told him about her cancer. 

"What's wrong? Is it-- Did it come back?" He took her hands in his, worried about how cold they felt, and about the way she held herself so straight, not bending towards him at all.

Molly shook her head. "I asked you to come home. I asked you to call me, to give me even a little bit of your time. Why can't I get that without being sick?"

He patted his pockets until he found his phone - completely out of charge. "I'm sorry. You should've called the office - we could've at least had dinner together."

"Daniel, I shouldn't have to," she said. "I married a sweet guy who always had time for me, who spent the whole day making macaroni art with my students. I miss that guy."

"I'm still him," he said softly, kneeling at her feet. "I haven't changed."

She touched his face, her voice sad as she said, "You're never home. I don't want a workaholic for a husband - I want someone who will play hooky and climb trees."

Holding her hand against his cheek, he said, "Molly, we're broke. If I can't bring in more revenue, we have to lay off hundreds of people, right at Christmas. If Betty and I can pull this off, we can keep our heads above water, give the FBI time to find--"

"To find Connor." It was a subject they'd avoided, and Daniel winced. Molly just shook it off and said, "I know it's important, Daniel. I just want to feel like I'm important, too. Like you'd occasionally choose being at home with me rather than at work with Betty."

Something was off about the harmonics of that statement. "What does Betty have to do with anything?"

"Do you realize what any other wife would think about a man working late every night with his secretary?"

"Betty threw our wedding for us," Daniel said, appalled. "She's never been anything but supportive of us."

Molly put a finger over his lips and said, "I know. And I hate that I feel this way, but I can't help it. She sees you; I don't. You smile for her, and for me..."

"I smile," he said. "Molly, I love you. You make me happy." Except, lately, there hadn't been a lot of happiness between them. He needed to fix that, to find a way to get back to where they'd been, to the urgency and passion they'd had when they knew their time was limited.

She trailed her fingertips over his face and smiled wistfully. "Finish up with work. Then, to make it up to me, we can spend our first Christmas together as a family somewhere beautiful."

"We'll leave right after the gift exchange," Daniel said, starting to feel some hope. "I drew Justin and you got my mom, so presents will be really easy."

"Gift exchange?"

Molly's eyebrows were so far up that it seemed like they were going to meet her hairline. Daniel's heart sank as he realized that they'd never talked about plans for Christmas, or their traditions. "Mom and I, we go over and visit the Suarezes every year. Ignacio makes empanadas and tamales, and we all watch tv. Justin usually has me help him make ornaments with a lot of glitter. I think you'll like it."

"I do love empanadas," Molly said, obviously working hard to dredge up a smile. 

"We don't have to go." He couldn't entirely hide his reluctance, but he tried. "We can just skip it, start our own traditions."

Standing up, she said, "And ruin the gift exchange? It'll be fine."

Daniel pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple. "It'll be _awesome_. You'll see."

"I want things to get better," she said. "I want to be married to the free spirit I met, not to some stuffy businessman."

"Molly, I have to do this," he said. "There's a lot of people depending on me. I can't just leave it all to someone else - this is my company, the company my dad built."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "We'll talk more later. When you have time."

There didn't seem to be anything else to say, and he watched her leave before turning back to the work still spread on his desk. One more call and he should have an answer about the photo shoot. Then he could start shifting the layout and then catch a nap before he started working the advertisers in the morning. He couldn't wait to see Betty's face when she realized how much progress he'd made.

***


	4. The rest of it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eek. I hadn't realized I'd forgotten to post the rest of this fic! As usual, any mistakes are mine and not my beta's.

"Daniel?" Betty stepped back and looked at the wall where they'd laid out all of the pages for their special edition. "Daniel, I think we're done."

He looked at her and then at the layouts and said, "We did it. We really did it! This is ready to go to press!"

Clapping her hands, she cheered and said, "Go, us! We made it happen!"

"We are awesome." Holding his hand up, they gave each other a high five and then bumped fists. "What are we going to do to celebrate?"

"First thing, we email it to the printer, before anything has a chance to go wrong," she said. "Then I'm going to eat and fall asleep and I'm not waking up until sometime late tomorrow."

With a grin, he said, "You know what I feel like doing? I feel like crashing a wedding."

"I don't know if anyone's getting married at this hour," she said. "But we could grab a slice and go look over our city. It seems like the right time for it."

She knew exactly what he was talking about, and it felt amazing to share something that deep with another person. "I'll call the town car, you email the printer."

"Give me your flash drive," she said. "I'm making five copies, just to make sure."

It didn't take long, and in short order they were riding through the city, telling each other awful jokes, debating whether or not Jersey Shore was completely fake, and generally laughing hysterically as they unwound. The karaoke pizza place was still open, and he was surprised when Betty looked at her watch and announced the time - it wasn't actually that late. "We'll sing another duet," he said, dragging her out of the car. "And have some of their awful wine."

"Was it really awful?" She was following along gamely, and for a minute when he looked at her he saw braces and a puffy blue coat, superimposed over how she looked now. It gave him a dual shock, to notice she was beautiful now, and then to realize that she always had been, he just hadn't been able to see it. Not sure what to do about it now that he'd seen it, he let her tow him along until they were sitting down. "You're totally paying. You can order whatever wine you want."

Just like that, she was just Betty again, and they were celebrating by reliving the night that had truly cemented their friendship. This time they sang "Under Pressure," and barely made it through from laughing so hard. By the time they were done, Betty was staggering from the amount of wine she'd had, and he wasn't much better off; they were supporting each other as they made their way out to the bridge, otherwise they wouldn't have made it. 

When they finally stopped to catch their breath, Betty said softly, "Why can't I have this much fun with Matt?"

"Maybe it's something you can only have with friends," he said. "Maybe love makes things too complicated to just enjoy a night like this."

She sighed and leaned against him, aware of his arm around her shoulders and the masculine lines of his chest, but not really taking them into account. This was Daniel. Daniel was different than other men, even if lately it had crossed into her consciousness more often that he was indeed a man. "It's so much work, you know? I feel like I'm starting from inside a deep hole with trying to get things back to where they were."

"I know." His voice was a low rumble in her ear, and he squeezed her shoulders for just a moment. "But we have to, and it'll be fine. They can't hold a grudge because we were working to save the company."

Somehow, it seemed like it was possible now that Daniel had said it. "This is going to bring such good things to us, isn't it? The ad revenue, yeah, but we might even get a bump in circulation, and I'm on the masthead as the managing editor."

Grinning, he looked down at her and said, "I've already got the concept for our next one, assuming you haven't gone off to run some intellectual magazine about books or politics by then."

"No! Do you see this face? This is my horrified, sleep deprived face! No more!" She felt energized, though, the thought of getting something else accomplished making her feel invincible. "What's the idea?"

"Mode: Curves," he said. "Alexis isn't here to stop us, and Wilhelmina will deal with it because my being busy with it will leave the regular issue mostly in her hands."

Her eyes gleamed as she turned to him. "We could do a fashion show to accompany it - do you think we could get it done by Fashion Week?"

"It'd be non-stop work as soon as we get back from Christmas," he said. "Unless we want to wait until September instead."

"Let's at least start," she said, bringing her hands up to her face as if to contain her excitement. "Daniel, this could be huge!"

He looked at her for a moment, eyebrow raised, and said, "I know what you mean."

Smacking his arm, she said, "Seriously, this is going to be amazing! And if it turns out well, maybe we can make it a regular feature."

"We should get that model from the Lane Bryant commercial, she was hot," Daniel said. "And that Brazilian one - Fluvia?"

"Did I just hear you correctly? Daniel Meade, talking about hot plus-sized models?"

His ears turned red, but he lifted his chin. "Hey, I'm married, not dead."

"What happened to not knowing anything about women who aren't 'hot, skinny chicks?' I never would've pegged you for including anyone over size two in your spank bank."

"Betty!" He looked at her in shock, and she couldn't quite believe she'd said it, either. 

Clearing her throat, she said, "Can we just forget that and go back to planning our next triumph?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Come on. I'll drop you off and then we can get some sleep."

"Don't forget that you're bringing the wine when you come over," she said. "And tell Molly I'm looking forward to seeing her."

His face fell, just a little, but Betty was afraid to ask why and quickly shifted to another topic. It was easy enough to forget, as they drove home, that anyone else existed or that the world contained any problems.

***

Sometime amidst the hubbub of Ignacio finding a positive pregnancy test and Hilda having a freakout of epic proportions, Daniel and Betty found themselves in the kitchen. It was an oasis of calm after the living room, and Betty bit her lip. "Do we need to go back in for Matt and Molly?"

"They made it out earlier," he said, peeking through the cracked door. "Remember, Matt was going for more beer and Molly said she wanted a walk."

Frowning, Betty said, "They never came back? That was ages ago."

There was another shriek from the living room and Betty grabbed a thick sweater. "Let's go find them. And maybe get some eggnog or something."

"Sounds good." Daniel shrugged his coat on and held the door open for her. "So that'll be something, having a baby in the house again."

"Yeah. I think I'm going to get my own place again, though - that way there's room for the baby, and I don't have to get up in the middle of the night when the baby cries."

Quietly, he said, "I think it's amazing that Hilda didn't even think about..."

"She'd never. It's, there's a difference between believing politically in a woman's right to choose and thinking about your own body and the baby inside it as a choice." Betty looked up at the sky for a minute and sighed. "I'm just glad it isn't me. That's really horrible and selfish of me, but it's true."

She could feel it as he went still and then stepped in front of her, putting his hands on her arms. "We should turn around, go back to the house."

"Daniel, what on earth--" She looked past him and saw Matt and Molly, kissing feverishly as cans of beer rolled on the ground around their feet. Her mouth dropped open as she stared, and then she looked up at Daniel and her heart sank to her feet. How could Molly do that to him? "That _bitch!_ "

Before she could charge over, Daniel grabbed her arm and held her back. "Betty, wait. You can't--"

The look she gave him must have been downright Slater-esque, because his hand slackened and she broke away, storming over to the kissing couple. They broke apart and looked at her in horror. "Betty, wait, I can explain!"

"No, you can't." She charged past Matt, kicking aside a beer can as she got in Molly's face. "How could you even think about this? Daniel's been with you through so much, he loves you so much, and this is what you do?"

Molly shrank away from her and then Matt stepped between them. "Even now, that's your reaction - all about Daniel. What about _me_ , Betty? What about what _I_ did?"

Looking at him contemptuously, she said, "I don't even _know_ you. You _say_ you're supportive, that you like me for who I am, but then when I have the _nerve_ to pay attention to my career instead of you - well, you showed who you really are, didn't you?"

"What's so horrible about wanting my girlfriend to think I'm important?" Matt's voice was low but impassioned as they faced off, and it just made Betty more angry to see him shielding Molly, who was crying and refusing to look at Daniel. "To want to be more important than her job and her _boss_?"

Poking her finger in his chest, she said, "You're a selfish jerk, and I should've known better than to give you a second chance after you were so horrible to me. But _you_!" She whirled on Molly, her shoulders square as she advanced on her while pushing up the sleeves of her sweater. "You dumped Connor for Daniel and now, now that you're _married_ to a wonderful man who loves you, you're going to just skank it up like it means nothing?"

Betty's hand itched to slap Molly across her hypocritical tear-streaked face, but then Daniel was there, holding her back and whispering in her ear. "Betty, calm down. There's people everywhere and we'll be lucky if they don't sell pictures of this to the paparazzi."

"I don't understand how you can be so calm," Betty grumbled, still wanting to slap the snot out of Molly and then kick Matt so hard that he wouldn't walk straight for days. 

"Someone has to be," he said quietly. "Now, I think all of us should go back to the house and have the car meet us there to go somewhere and talk this out."

With a bitter laugh, Matt turned to Molly and said, "We'll never win, don't you see? He punched me for insulting Betty, but for kissing you? Nothing."

Daniel started to move but Betty was quicker, and there was a flash of light just as her foot landed solidly between Matt's legs. He hunched over, looking green, and Molly rushed to help him even as Daniel caught hold of Betty again and held her back from doing further damage. She growled and struggled to get away, until finally he shook her and said, "He's not worth it, Betty. He's just not worth it."

She finally came back to herself enough to notice that there was a crowd around them, including a few with heavy-duty cameras, and she shook off his hold, standing up straight and brushing her sleeves down as she tried to regain her dignity. "You're right, he's not."

"Daniel." Molly was standing on the curb, holding open the door of the cab she'd hailed. Matt managed to get upright enough to crawl in, and Molly's lips were turned down as she looked solemnly at Daniel. Betty held her breath, waiting to hear what she had to say. "I'm not worth it, either."

He stepped towards her, but she ducked into the cab and they drove away, leaving Daniel and Betty standing on the streetcorner, surrounded by onlookers. He looked so numb, so completely dumbfounded, that Betty found herself automatically going into action, turning to walk past their audience with her head held high. There'd be time enough to hide under her covers and never come out later.

Just before they went into the house, Daniel stopped her with a hand to the elbow. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"Not now," she said, feeling tears threatening. "I can't right now. I need to stay angry."

He pulled her into a hug and she broke, crying against his chest as he held her safe inside his arms. "I'm so sorry, Betty."

It was just typical that he'd think of her when he had to be hurting, too. That Molly hadn't seen that just made her cry harder, but Daniel just held her until she was all cried out. Just when she was starting to sniffle and think about how ridiculous it was to be crying on her own stoop, then door opened and Claire looked at them quizzically. "Did something else happen? Justin and I hid upstairs while your father and Hilda were going through the baby drama."

"Yeah." Daniel's voice was hoarse as Betty broke away from him and he jammed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, something happened."

"Where's Molly?" Claire's hand flew to her throat. "Is it... Is she okay?"

With a bitter laugh, Betty said, "As well as a ho-bag can be when she's caught cheating on her husband."

Claire's eyes widened and Daniel sighed. "Let's get inside and call the car. There's a lot to figure out."

***

Justin found YouTube videos even before they'd finished explaining what happened. By the time Daniel made it home, he'd had to turn his phone off to avoid the constant calls, and his inbox was full of requests for comments. His mom said she'd handle putting out a statement, which was just as well since he had no idea what he'd say. Molly wasn't at home, but he hadn't really been expecting her to be there.

Settling down on the couch, he let his head fall back and just took a deep breath, trying to think of how to feel about anything. He wished he'd gotten to hit Matt; that, he was absolutely clear on. The thing with Molly...

Part of him was shocked, because he'd thought she barely knew Matt. They'd only ever had reason to be around each other a handful of times, when he and Betty were both there. Then again, apparently they'd gotten together separately more than once. 

There was a part of him that just wasn't surprised at all. She'd been so distant lately, and they hadn't been able to connect. And then there was that she'd basically said that she didn't want to be married to him if he wasn't a free spirit, and he couldn't keep that up, even for her. It was like she wanted him to be two different Daniels at the same time - the immature one that had blown off work and the stable one that had married her and committed to being a one-woman man. The problem was that he had to be one or the other.

Maybe what he needed to do was tell her. His inner voice, the one that sounded like Betty and generally told him the right thing to do, was saying that it would be the mature thing to do. He generally listened to that voice, rather than the one that sounded like Becks and was telling him to just change the locks and do his best to forget Molly ever existed.

Turning his phone back on, he hit her number on the speed-dial and got sent straight to voicemail - which was full. He had no idea what to say in a text, so he started paging through the ones he'd gotten, trying to see if she'd made contact. She hadn't.

Connor had. _Full immunity and my job. You get your money back with interest in exchange._

He stared at the phone for a long minute, then sent a text back saying, _Not putting you back in charge of my money to steal again._

_Wouldn't expect you to. Check your accounts - I'll be in touch._

Daniel went over to the computer and then realized he didn't have his password for online banking. Since calling Molly was out of the question, he called the other person who would know it, Betty. "Hey."

"Are you okay?" Her voice was soft, and he couldn't believe she was so concerned about him when she had to be hurting. "Did you see the news?"

"No, I figured I'd already seen it," he said. "I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't important, but I need to check my bank accounts." 

There was a long pause, long enough that he checked if the call had somehow dropped, but finally he heard the tapping of keys. "I'm sending you the password to your phone but, Daniel, there's... Molly and Matt, they got on a plane together. She left you."

It was like she was speaking another language. He heard the words, but they didn't make sense. His lips felt stiff as he heard himself saying, "She left me earlier. I guess it makes sense she'd keep going."

"I'm coming over," she said determinedly. "You shouldn't be alone."

"The paparazzi are camped out downstairs," he said. "I don't want to think what the papers would say about you."

She made an impatient noise and said, "I don't care. I'm on my way."

Even though he should have protested, he wanted her there. Trying to think of a way to make it okay, he said, "What if you come with my mom? No one would think you're coming up to sleep with me if you're with my mom."

"They--" Betty choked on her words, but said, "Fine. Call your mom, I'll call the car. And then call me back so you can tell me what the deal is with your online banking."

His mom was already on her way, and didn't question for a moment swinging by to pick up Betty. Daniel put his phone on silent as he figured out how to log in to his bank, and then sat back as he saw that he had a million dollar deposit showing as having been made just before Connor had texted him. In the information line, it said, "Cuckold compensation."

By the time Betty and his mom arrived, he still hadn't come up with any answers about what to do. Betty was frantic, scolding him for not calling her back, but he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Something's come up - and I think we need Wilhelmina."

They both looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, but he turned his laptop so they could see the screen and pointed to the entry, then handed over his phone so they could see the texts. "If there's a chance of getting the money back... I think we have to take it."

"Daniel, honey, is this really the time?" Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, leaning over to enfold him in a hug. "The business can wait. Right now, you're the priority."

He lifted a hand to hers, but said, "There's really nothing to do about the personal stuff. I can't kick Matt's ass, and Molly's made her choice."

Betty's face crumpled, and he stood, reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"I just, I can't believe Connor would do this," she said. "He's rubbing it in, getting back at you because Molly chose you over him."

"When you put it that way, it makes sense," Daniel said. "But the thing is, can we trust him?"

Betty's jaw tightened, and she said, "We could take the texts to the FBI, see if they can use them for a trace, or track down where the money was wired from."

"They've been useless so far," Claire said, her voice strengthening as she looked at Daniel's face. He didn't know what she saw there, but it made her focus on business and that comforted him even more than her hug had. "What we'd need is a way to come out of it without the scandal making us look stupid."

"Everybody knows Connor stole the money," Betty said. "How could you possibly pretend he didn't?"

Daniel ran a hand through his hair and said, "This is why I thought we should bring in Wilhelmina. She's really good at scheming, and has the best motivation to bring Connor back."

"Are you sure?" His mom was starting to look excited, but she put a hand on his chin and forced his gaze to meet hers. "Absolutely sure this is what you want to do?"

He nodded. "It's for the good of the company. And I'd rather have Willi scheming with us instead of with Connor."

"How do you know she isn't?" Betty looked like she regretted blurting it out, but then she got her determined look and kept going. "For all we know, she's the reason why he got in touch."

"No," Claire said. "If Wilhelmina Slater was setting up this scheme, she would most definitely _not_ allow for it to seem like her paramour was still obsessed with his former fiancee dumping him."

Daniel nodded slowly. "That makes perfect sense."

Sighing, Betty said, "I'll start the coffee, and then I guess I can go home since you don't actually need me."

"What?" Daniel instinctively started to protest, then stopped himself. She really wouldn't be there for anything other than because he wanted her there, and how could he be selfish enough to do that to her when she'd had her heart stomped on that day? "Betty, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag you over here."

She gave him one of her best smiles, the one that said that she knew he was a screwup but liked him anyway. "You didn't drag me, I'm the one that insisted on coming. And, hey, it got me away from Hilda and Justin constantly checking TMZ and Papi cooking, and I didn't have to fight my way through a parade. Win!"

He ducked his head at the reminder from their early days, but said, "If you want to hide out here, you're more than welcome to."

"You work on saving the company," Betty said. "I'll stick around and work on food and general support."

As she walked into the kitchen, he turned to see his mother giving him an odd look. "What?"

"Just noticing how you're handling things," she said lightly. "It's a mother's prerogative."

He didn't know how to respond to that, but then she was calling Wilhelmina and things turned into a blur of planning and rethinking and then going over the same ground again. Betty came to sit next to him and take notes, although eventually she started yawning and nodding off. He hadn't even noticed he was sleepy, but all the late nights seemed to catch up to him at once and he struggled to keep his eyes open. 

Only vaguely aware that he was falling asleep, he heard his mother murmuring, "Things are going back to the way they should be."

When he woke up, Betty's face was only inches away, and the only reason he didn't lean in to kiss her was that a bolt of pain shot through his neck as soon as he moved. It made him wake up enough to realize that he was no longer happily married, that he wasn't in bed, and that he'd probably been about to make the biggest mistake of his life. He couldn't lose Betty, ever, but especially not now.

"Hey." She smiled a bit, her glasses askew, then rubbed at her face. "Sorry I fell asleep. What's the plan?"

"Coffee," he said, wincing as he tried to move and his stiff muscles protested. The blanket that had covered both of them slipped off and his eyes automatically followed to this lines of Betty's body, her cleavage exposed by the way her dress had shifted and wrinkled. He hurriedly turned his head, calling himself every name he could think of. Not only was he still married, he was disrespecting Betty. "And the bathroom."

"Dibs," she said, struggling off the couch. "Do you still keep extra toothbrushes under the sink?"

She was gone before he could answer and he was grateful for the time to pull himself together. He was standing to stretch when his mother called out a quiet hello and he almost jumped out of his skin. "Mom!"

"I thought, since Betty mentioned being chaperoned because of the paparazzi, that I should probably stay." Brushing his hair back from his face, she said, "You fell asleep before we settled on the final plan."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to leave everything to you and Willi." A thought occurred and he said, "She's gone, right?"

Claire nodded, then put a hand on his arm. "Listen, before Betty comes back, you need to know this."

"There's nothing Betty can't--"

"Unofficially, rumors are going to spread that Matt and Molly disappearing is related to the money going missing," Claire said. "There has to be someone to blame, and we can't have it be Connor, not if he's working for us."

Daniel sucked in a breath. He could see why it made sense, but... "Isn't there any other option?"

"There isn't," Claire said. "So, officially, our policy is that we tell the authorities we made a mistake and pay any fines there are for filing a false report. We issue a statement that says we ask for people to be understanding of our need for privacy during such a difficult time, and then we tough it out."

"Is Willi on board for keeping things quiet?" He looked nervously at the bathroom door, hoping Betty stayed away for a few more minutes. "I don't want Betty to find out we were in on framing Matt in the court of public opinion."

With an enigmatic look, Claire said, "Willi has almost as much to lose as you do. She won't blow it."

Betty stepped out of the bathroom then, still looking a bit rumpled and with her hair frizzy. "Who won't?"

"You, dear," Claire said. "Daniel was worried about how hard it is for you to lie, but I know you can handle a stoic 'no comment' like a pro."

"Of course!" Betty rolled her eyes at Daniel and said, "Please. As much practice as this family has given me at it?"

Daniel smiled as best he could and gave her a thumbs up. "Great."

She wasn't buying it, but he ducked past her to the bathroom and stayed in until he smelled coffee. He might still not have his thoughts in order, but they might never be in order again, and caffeine was very, very necessary right now.

"All right," he said, stepping out of the bathroom. "Let's go get our money and save our magazines."

Betty's cheer made him think there was a chance everything really would be all right again.

***

If there were any photographers around when she got home, Betty didn't see them. That was a relief, as was the smell of breakfast cooking once she stepped inside. "I'm home."

"Mija!" Ignacio led the charge out of the kitchen, spatula in hand. "We were worried."

Betty glanced over at Hilda, who shook her head and drew a hand sideways across her throat. Narrowing her eyes to let her sister know they would be talking in the near future, Betty returned her dad's hug and said, "I'm sorry, I should have called. I ended up falling asleep, but I think everything's resolved."

"What happened?" Hilda shepherded them all back to the kitchen, shooting Betty another warning look. "We were getting phone calls half the night about Daniel."

"I got to tell Anderson Cooper _and_ Suzuki St. Pierre that we had no comment," Justin said. "It was amazing."

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Betty said, "We're going to keep on having no comment, but... Connor's giving back the money."

That led to a big outcry, and Betty felt overwhelmed by the noise, but also comforted. This was home, and home didn't change even if her boyfriend did. "I don't know why. I guess it's because Molly dumped Daniel, just like she dumped Connor."

"Makes perfect sense," Hilda said with a nod. "This way Daniel didn't win anything, so now they're even and they can be friends again. Although they might have to have a fight first - guys always need to talk with their fists before things get settled."

"I don't know if they'll be friends," Betty said. "I mean, Connor stole Daniel's money - and he tried to frame me, let's not forget that."

Waving a hand, Hilda said, "The point is, Daniel is rich again, right? That'll help him get over that skank who stole your man."

"I can't believe Matt would do that to you," Ignacio said, putting a plate in front of her. "And Molly seemed like such a nice person."

"Well, she wasn't," Betty said. "She's a liar and a cheat and she'll probably dump Matt, too, as soon as she finds someone else."

Picking at her breakfast, Hilda said, "I don't know, it's hard to trade up from the Hartleys as far as money goes. She'd have to fall out of a tree on Bill Gates next."

"You don't think... Molly didn't marry Daniel for money, she couldn't have."

Rocking her head to the side, Hilda said, "I don't know, it just seems an awful coincidence, you know? She goes from an executive with a nice salary to the man who owns his company, and then she goes to the son of a billionaire. It's like she finds it really easy to fall in love with rich men."

"It's as easy to fall in love with a rich person as a poor one," Justin said, his eyes gleaming.

"No, it's not like that," Betty said. "She's an awful person, but I don't think she's a golddigger."

Ignacio spooned more food onto her plate. "Whatever she is, I just want my baby girl to be okay. Both of my girls."

Flinching, Hilda said, "I'm fine, Papi. Been through this before, you know?"

"At least this time you're old enough to vote," he said, going back to the stove.

"I need to get dressed," Betty said, scrambling to stand up. "I might need to go into the office later."

"I'll help you with your hair." Hilda was after her in an instant, and Justin covered their retreat by saying he was supposed to go hang out with friends. 

 

As soon as they were upstairs, Betty said, "What happened? What did Archie say about the baby?"

"It's not his," Hilda said quietly, a tear running down her cheek. "It was so awful, and he was so polite even though I broke his heart."

"Oh, Hilda." She pulled her sister into a hug. "How do we get into these messes?"

Hilda started crying in earnest and Betty stroked her hair, staring off into space. "We're going to get through this."

"I'm sorry," Hilda said. "I'm sorry for screwing up our lives, and I'm sorry for being glad that your boyfriend cheating on you meant that the attention got taken off me."

"It's okay, Hilda, it's okay." With a sigh, Betty said, "I'm not actually that upset over Matt. I mean, I hardly saw him for the past month and when I did he was always complaining."

Sniffling, Hilda said, "And he was kind of a total jackass to you for a while there."

"He was," Betty said. "At least his mom will be happy with him for picking a white girl this time."

It was the thought of Victoria Hartley being happy that finally broke through Betty's calm, but even as she cried she knew that she wasn't anywhere near as upset as she should be. She'd already done her grieving for the relationship with Matt, and that they'd tried to resurrect things didn't change much of anything. 

***

The first time Molly called, Daniel just stared at the caller ID, frozen as the tried to think of what to say or feel. He still didn't know when she called back immediately after, but he picked up on the third ring. "Molly?"

"Daniel, I'm sorry," she said. "We didn't mean for this to happen, and I never wanted to hurt you."

"Which part was an accident? Because it didn't look like you tripped and landed on the lips of Betty's boyfriend, or that you were being kidnapped when you got into that cab, and those pictures of you getting on a plane and then, oh yeah, more kissing Betty's boyfriend, but on a beach that time? Yeah, you didn't look like you were being blackmailed into it."

Her voice was soft as she said, "You have every right to be upset, and I'm sorry, but you of all people know what it's like to fall in love when you shouldn't."

"So, what, you fell in love with Betty's boyfriend? When did that happen, because I seem to recall being married to you--"

"Stop calling him that," Molly said, her voice taut. He could picture her clearly, her hand tight around the phone and her face set in stubborn lines. "All you need to know is we found a lot to talk about while you and Betty were alone together."

He didn't know what to say about that, and so he stayed quiet. After a minute, Molly sighed. "Look, it's really no one's fault. We just need to move on, to be with the people we're supposed to be with."

"That's awfully convenient," he bit out. "What do you want? You wouldn't have called after a week if you didn't have a reason."

"I want you to sign the divorce papers I'm sending you," Molly said. "If you sign the waiver, the divorce can be final tomorrow."

Genuinely shocked, he said, "What? You can't get a divorce that fast!"

"You can in Haiti," she said. "You should see it - the people here need so much help, and I'm already teaching at an orphanage that I used to donate to. Matt's helping to build houses for people left homeless by the earthquake, and we're actually doing something good in the world."

"That's..." Words failed him, and he found himself giving a thumbs up even though no one was there to see him. "Great. That's great."

Someone called out for her, and she said, "I've got to go, but don't worry - I don't want any of your money, no matter what the press says."

"I'll send one of the lawyers over," Daniel said. "And... are you sure you don't need any money? What if things don't work out with Matt?"

"Oh, Daniel." Her voice was soft and he could picture her again, with the soft expression that she wore whenever he'd done something that particularly touched her. It was usually followed by a kiss, and it was jarring to know that was never going to be the case again. "I'll be fine. You don't need to take care of me anymore."

"I know, but--"

"I'll be right there!" The sound from the phone was muffled, and he could tell she was talking to someone with her hand over the phone's receiver. When she came back, she said, "Look, Daniel, I've got to go. I'm glad you're okay."

"Bye," he said, but she'd already hung up. He looked at the phone for a minute and thought about who he could call - Betty, his mom, the lawyers - but then he put the phone down and walked to the window, staring out at the city. He should be devastated, or angry, or something. All he felt was emptiness - a complete lack of reaction that was more worrying than anything else would be.

He picked up the phone again and dialed. "Alexis? This is going to sound weird, but can I speak to Alex? I kind of need my brother right now."

"That does sound weird. You know we're not different people, right? I didn't replace someone else."

"Never mind, it was stupid," Daniel said. "Sorry I bothered you."

He'd almost hung up when he heard, "Danny, wait!"

When he brought the phone back to his ear, Alexis said, "Do I need to try to talk in a deep voice? I can put on jeans if that'd help."

"My wife wants a quickie divorce and we didn't have a prenup," Daniel said. "And we're bringing a thief back to work for the company so that he'll return our money."

She was quiet for a moment, then said, "You don't want Alex, you want Dad."

"I guess I do," Daniel said. "He'd be so mad, wouldn't he? He'd yell at me for weeks about being such a monumental screwup."

"Yeah, but he'd fix everything," Alexis said. "That was both the great thing and the awful thing about him, wasn't it?"

Daniel settled down in his easy chair and thought about pouring himself a drink. "What should I do? I'm just, I'm lost. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel right now."

"How do you actually feel?" 

He closed his eyes and it was almost like when they were young, hanging out and talking after a run. "I feel... Tired. I just want this all to be over. I hate all the scheming and lying and being betrayed."

"Unless you find out you were switched at birth, the scheming's going to around forever." The acerbic tone made Daniel smile, because it was just so Alex. "With the betrayal, I guess next time you need to pick a better wife. Maybe even someone I've been introduced to."

"Not to mention a better class of friend," Daniel said. "How am I going to handle seeing him at work all the time?"

Alexis once again had a sharp answer, and they talked for almost half an hour. As they were saying goodbye, Daniel said, "Hey, Alex? Thanks."

"Anytime." 

"It was kind of like back when we were kids, you know? Except, it's funny - I kept picturing us sitting in the living room back at the house, like we used to."

She huffed impatiently and said, "Is this going somewhere?"

"I started picturing you back then with a ponytail and those pink sneakers you like," Daniel said. "Like Alex was always Alexis."

There was a long pause, and she sounded a bit hoarse when she said, "Thanks, Danny."

"Give DJ my love," Daniel said. "Maybe Mom and I can come visit after some of the craziness dies down."

"That would be good," she said, regaining her usual briskness more with every word. "And, you know, if you need me, I can always fly out there."

"I thought you were busy building your empire over there," Daniel said. "You haven't been home since you left."

"I am, but I'd come home for you." She cleared her throat and said, "If that's everything, I've got an appointment I'm late for."

He said goodbye, smiling as he hung up. His family might be strange, but sometimes he really appreciated having them in his corner.

***

"All right, so here's the deal." Betty came into his office on their first day back from Christmas break and shut the door firmly behind her. "Even though we don't need to do it for the revenue, I think we should still go with your supplement idea. We can use some of the other staffers this time if we need to, since we're not going to have to worry so much about not using overtime, but it's a worthwhile idea and I need a project."

Daniel looked at her with amusement. "You're on a mission, aren't you?"

"I am." She gave him a determined look and he found that he missed the braces a little, because now her expressions were different, just enough for it to be noticeable.

"Then it's a good thing I'd already decided to do the supplement," he said. "Fashion Week is just over a month away, and I think we can do it."

Clapping her hands together, she said, "This is going to be great! It'll be like when we did the alternative fashion show, but better!"

"I started working up some ideas," he said, gesturing for her to come over. "Tell me what you think."

Flipping through some mockups he'd put together, she said, "Wow, you really do like that one model. Thinking of having her be your first post-Molly fling?"

"What? No! I mean, she's hot, yeah, but I haven't even started to think about that sort of thing yet."

"Getting back out there might be just what you need," Betty said. "It always helped you feel better before."

Arching an eyebrow, he said, "Aren't you the one who said I was a sex addict who needed treatment? What's your plan next, giving my mom a drink?"

Her annoyed expression hadn't changed, and he laughed as she smacked his shoulder. "That's not what I mean and you know it."

"Come on, Betty, I'll start dating when I'm ready," he said. "What about you, when are you going to start going out with someone else?"

"For your information, I already have," she said snootily. 

That took him aback, and he said, "Seriously? When? With who?"

"Just someone from my neighborhood," she said. "It was okay, but I don't know. He had no idea what I was talking about half the time."

"Maybe you should take your time," he said. "Not try to rush into anything just to avoid being alone."

She pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning over to rest her elbows on his desk. "I know, it's just, I don't like people asking me if I'm okay or feeling sorry for me. It's even worse than being laughed at."

"I know what you mean," he said. "Although I'm getting a lot of the whole, let me ease your pain by giving you a b--" He cut himself off with a cough. "With, ah, distractions. That whole thing."

Her nose wrinkled. "You really need to start spending time around a better class of woman."

"I will," he said. "Mostly because if we're going to get this done in time, I'm going to be spending all day with you again."

"Not the point," she said, looking uncomfortable. "But I've got a story meeting to get to, so we'll let it go for now. I'll start seeing if I can track down some designers to feature - ooh, actually, I might do an article on calling them and asking about clothes in my size, see what they say. Although, what if it's an advertiser and they're really rude?"

He thought about it and said, "We could run it by Wilhelmina. Some of them might like it - but are you sure you want to subject yourself to that?"

Flapping a hand, she said, "It'll be a great article, and it'll build awareness. Besides, it's not like they're going to manage to say anything worse than Marc and Amanda say all the time."

"I thought it was nice that they put that anti-Hartley rant on the Betty blog." It wasn't much of a mitigation, but at least it was something.

"Betty blog?" 

A bit nervously, he said, "The one where they post pictures of all your outfits? You have to know about it."

"Show me," she said, and he winced internally before turning to the computer and pulling up the bookmarked page. "They've been doing this since my first day at Mode and you never told me?"

"I thought you knew!" She was scrolling through, and he added, "They had all the pictures - I figured you were cooperating."

She paused at one picture and said, "I love that outfit!"

Looking at the mishmash of clashing patterns, a cut that obscured her figure, and a beret to top it off, he managed, "It's a great bag. Houndstooth is very on trend."

"It was swag," she said glumly. "I can't believe this. This is... What's wrong with that belt?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just look on it like a diary - you can see all the progress you've made!"

She scrolled through a few more entries and then closed the window. "You know, you really didn't have to bookmark it."

"I thought you knew about it!" She shook her head at him and he said, "And, see, without the blog, I might not have remembered that that's the same expression you had when I called you the all-judging butterfly."

She drew herself up to her full height, which was kind of hilarious on someone as short as her, and said, "Just for that, you're coming to work in costume this Halloween."

His laughter lasted just long enough to see her expression. "No, seriously?"

"Yup. And you know I can make it happen." 

He hunched his shoulders and hoped desperately she'd forget before October. "So, anyway, we should start work on the supplement right away. Once we've got some content, I can set Connor and Willi to finding the advertisers."

"Are you sure they'd give it an honest try?"

If it had been anyone else, he would've been offended at having his decision questioned, but since it was Betty, he could tell her what he thought and she wouldn't judge him if he was being stupid. "Connor's trying to prove himself to Willi, and Willi's trying to show us that Connor can be trusted. And, once they start competing, they'll claw to new heights just to show off."

"That makes sense," she said slowly. "But what if they decide to sabotage it? Especially if Willi hates the concept, which she will."

"She either supports the supplement or it goes in the regular magazine," Daniel said. "I'm going to do this." 

She looked impressed, and his chest swelled with pride. " _We're_ going to do this," she said. "High five!"

***

_The skirts of her bridal gown rustled around her as she turned in shock._

_"This wedding cannot go on!"_

_She looked up at Daniel, who looked grim even as Matt kept speaking. "I have proof that this man is already married, to a bride he hid away on Hispaniola!"_

_"Sir?" Her voice was small and weak as Daniel took her hands in his and pulled them to his lips._

_"Forget him. Go on, pay no attention to what he's saying."_

_With an air of triumph, Matt threw the door open and Molly came in, her hair wild and her clothes ragged. "You can't have my husband!"_

_"Sir... Daniel, what's going on?" She turned to him with beseeching eyes, but he didn't have an answer for her and then Molly was pulling her away from him, ripping her beautiful gown, tearing the veil off her head. Soon Betty was the one in rags, and when she put her hand to her mouth, she could feel the bulk of braces distorting the shape of her lips._

Betty could still hear the mocking laughter after she woke up, her heart racing. She brought her hand up to check, relieved to find her braces were still gone, then groaned and flopped back down on her pillow. She really needed to start getting more rest, to eat better, and generally to figure out what was bringing on these dreams so she could stop having them. 

It was barely just getting light outside, but Betty still pulled herself out of bed and started getting dressed. She hesitated for a moment in front of her closet, but then defiantly reached for the brightest dress she could find. They wanted to blog about her outfits? She'd give them something to blog about.

Her courage deserted her sometime around when she would normally have gone downstairs to grab bagels for her and Daniel and she skulked in his office, pretending to be so busy that she just didn't notice anything around her. She _was_ busy, but it was impossible to ignore people doing double-takes as they filtered into work and saw her. Daniel himself had a breakfast meeting, so she could put off dealing with anything at least until lunchtime, or whenever Marc and Amanda came in.

As if her thoughts had called them into being, they rushed in, Amanda's high heels clacking, and stopped with theatrical gasps. Betty stood up straight, facing them down, and Marc brought up his phone but stopped. "I think this one might actually break the lens if I try to capture the full horror."

"Do you think she hit her head on something?" Amanda was whispering, but not actually managing to be at all quiet. "Only I saw something on tv last night that said you're not supposed to mock people when they're really sick, only when they're regular-people crazy."

"Oh, I don't care," Marc said impetuously, making a show of shielding his eyes even as he snapped a picture. "This perfect ideal of Betty-ness has to be immortalized for people to mock in millenia yet to come."

Turning in place, Betty said, "There's a bow on the back, if you need a picture of that."

Marc made a disappointed noise. "It's not as much fun if you're going along with it."

"I don't care," Betty said, bending over the desk to flip through some pages and hope that it looked like she was reading something. This had been as big a mistake as the makeover her first year at Mode, when she'd been trying to impress Vincent Bianchi. She didn't feel like herself, or empowered, or like she'd won anything. She just felt small and stupid and out of her league, poor and Mexican and colorful when everyone around her seemed to be rich and European and minimalist, or at least to know how to pretend they were all those things. She didn't belong, and it wasn't a gallant gesture to deliberately be as different as she could be, because it was just another way to try to pretend that she could belong if she wanted to, if she tried. No matter what, though, she was never going to be able to.

Marc and Amanda were still talking, but then their laughing stopped abruptly, and she looked up as Daniel said, "That's enough."

He wasn't alone, and she quickly looked back down at the papers she held, trying to put them in order while also surreptitiously swiping at the tears that had streaked down her face. Her plan was to mutter an apology and flee, but then Daniel was there beside her, and his concerned gaze crumbled what resolution she'd found. "I'm not that fat," she whispered.

"Betty, what--"

"The average American woman is bigger than I am, do you know that? But I can't buy _any_ of the clothes in our magazine, because to them, to these fashion people, I'm some grotesque monster that apparently should walk around _naked_ , because they're not interested in making clothes I can wear!"

He put his hands on her arms to calm her down but she just shook her head and kept going. "If there is something in a plus size, it's cheap fabric and a design like a tent - I've got a waist! I've got boobs! Just because I've also got a big butt, I'm supposed to wear a muumuu and be happy with it, right? This is why I wear clothes handed down from my mom so much - because I can't find _anything_ in stores that I'm willing to spend money on!"

"All right, Monsieur Meade, I get your point." Betty had forgotten about the other people in the room, and she flushed as she turned to see an older man in sunglasses standing at the door to his office. "Is this one of the models you were talking about, or an actress you hired for the purpose of convincing me?"

"I'm not an actress," Betty said, wiping her face with one hand and then smoothing her hair back. "And I'm very sorry - this was incredibly unprofessional, and it won't happen again."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Take off that ridiculous jacket and turn."

Drawing back, Betty looked at Daniel, trying to figure out what was going on. She couldn't interpret his return look, except that it seemed he wanted her to go along with it. Silently obeying his instructions, her eyes widened when she felt the man's hands on her waist and traveling upward. "Hey! Stop that!"

"Don't be so bourgeois," he said, slapping her hands away as he pulled down her zipper. She clutched the front of the dress to her breasts, but then he had scissors somehow and it was just like her nightmare all over again. "Daniel!"

"Betty, this is Jean-Claude Moreau," he said, studiously looking at the wall rather than at where the man and his busy scissors had left her in her underwear. 

She appreciated the consideration, although she thought he didn't really need to turn away so fast, like he was going to go blind at the sight of her. "Wait, Jean-Claude Moreau? As in, about to be accepted as a member to the Chambre de la Haute Couture, House of Moreau, arch-rival of Lagerfeld and former lover of--"

"Lagerfeld is an insolent joke." Moreau stood up straight and said, "The Germans, they know _nothing_ about clothes."

This had to be another nightmare. There was no other explanation for being naked at Mode, with Marc and Amanda peering through the window at her being prodded by a legendary designer. "He said Heidi Klum is fat and smiles too much."

"You are much fatter than any model should be," he said, poking at her stomach. "But you are not revolting, and there are possibilities, no? It will be as Monsieur Meade has said - I will create a revolution and no one will speak of anything else."

She looked helplessly at Daniel, who said, "The market potential--"

"Bah. I will make money no matter what I do. What I want is a challenge." He picked up scraps from Betty's destroyed clothes and grimaced. "The synthetic fabrics, they are like poison to the touch. Fetch cloth, decent cloth, and a tape measure. Needles, thread, shears - I will ensure that you do not have to go naked, yes? And then we will think of whether to do the same for other ladies of your size."

It seemed like everyone at the magazine walked past Daniel's office that morning, but he pulled the curtains and so at least she couldn't see them all clearly, even if the drapes were too sheer to completely block anything. Christina's replacement came up from the Closet, dragging her sewing machine and looking both awed and frightened. The tape measure was handed over and that was the last point at which Betty made any attempt at modesty, since it was so completely futile an effort.

"Jean-Claude!" A surge of hope rose in Betty's chest, because surely Wilhelmina's entrance meant that all this was going to stop and everything could go back to normal. "So wonderful to see you again!"

"Ah, Wilhelmina." They brushed their cheeks past each other about a foot away from Betty's face, and she braced herself for whatever might happen. Mocking comments, derisive laughter, being wrapped in one of Daniel's curtains and sent off to ride the subway home...

Moreau was talking again, gesturing to Betty. "As you see, she is fat but she is still shapely - it is a challenge, but a good one. I will enjoy dressing the big women, I think."

_That_ was definitely going to get a reaction. Wilhelmina had been very clear on multiple occasions that Mode was _not_ for normal people. Even the Botox wasn't enough to disguise the way her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in a way recognized by the entirety of the Meade Publications building as a valid reason for throwing yourself into traffic to get out of the way.

"Our Betty is quite a charmer. Once she's been rescued from the horror of her clothing, she'll be the belle of the ball." Betty didn't think she was the only one who had frozen in shock. Only Moreau was still moving, shifting the drape of fabric around Betty's shoulder. "Why, you're like Cinderella's fairy godfather."

" _La Cendrillon, precisement._ " His tapping the underside of her chin was the only way Betty realized her mouth was hanging open. "It will be a marvelous triumph."

Wilhelmina shifted her weight to stand and look over Betty, who had to fight the urge to curl in on herself and try to hide behind her hair. It was like Wilhelmina could see everything about her, down to the cellular level, and found all of it wanting. "What do you think of shifting the neckline? There's more breast there than at a Kentucky Fried Chicken - what would normally be tasteful might look vulgar just from the excessive cleavage."

"You have a point." Moreau stepped back to look at her, and Wilhelmina snapped her fingers. "Marc! Take a closer shot of this neckline before Jean-Claude changes it."

Somewhere along the line, Marc had picked up a regular camera instead of just his cell phone, and she flinched as he got so close that he probably had film of her every pore. "You are so right, Willi - it's mammary mania up in here."

"Is this really necessary?" Daniel was standing at the door, blocking the entrance even as Amanda struggled to get past.

"But she can't be photographed wearing those hideous shoes!" 

Any further protests from Amanda were muffled as Daniel closed the door, earning Betty's eternal gratitude. "Can't you see Betty's uncomfortable?"

"What on earth does that matter?" Wilhelmina gestured and Marc panned down to include a shot of Betty's feet, still encased in polka dot pumps with a red bow on the front and back of each one. "Those have got to go. Their existence is an affront to God and nature."

The door opened, but Daniel took the shoes from Amanda's hands and then pushed her back out, closing the door firmly behind her. "No one else needs to come in. If Betty needs anything, I'll bring it in."

"And if I need something, Monseiur Meade?" She could see Daniel swallowing hard, but before he could respond the designer laughed and said, "You will get it, of course. I am only teasing, only teasing." 

To Wilhelmina, he said, " _Les jeunes amoureux - il ya quelqu'un plus impétueux?_ "

" _Ainsi, ils ne disent que l'amour est aveugle. Dans le cas de Betty, je dirais au moins un peu d'myopes._ "

"You know, I don't speak French," Betty said, even as Moreau cracked up at what was apparently a hysterical joke. That had contained her name. Maybe she really should just walk out, legend or no.

Patting her shoulder, Moreau said, "We will speak only English, I promise. It would be rude to leave you out, and Mr. Meade would have me ejected from his office for being rude to you, _non_?"

Betty looked over at Daniel, but the second he glanced her way, he turned around so fast that she thought he'd sprain his eyes. Catching his eye was completely impossible.

Eventually, Betty was wearing a dress that was almost the same color as the one she'd picked that morning, but that was where the resemblance ended. She hadn't even had a chance to see it in a mirror, but she knew that it was chic from the way they were all looking at her, and what amazed her was that it was comfortable, as easy to wear as her oldest jammies. "I don't ever want to take it off."

"Alas, you must." Moreau patted her shoulder, seeming pleased. "But I will return it to you after we have made the copies for the limited production of - what is your name again?"

"Betty, Betty Suarez." He made a face and she said, "Beatriz Ursula Suarez de Solano."

Nodding thoughtfully, he said, "The Beatriz dress. I think it will work."

"We'll need photographs before the dress comes off," Willi said. "Perhaps a coffee while we wait?" She glanced at Marc and he hustled Betty toward the door.

"No, no, there is no time," Moreau said. "Take her picture as she is, but we will find other girls for the modeling, perhaps ones that are a bit taller and know how to stand. Right now I must return to my studio to do some serious work - perhaps, Mr. Meade, you will forward to me your contact for acquiring fat models?"

Marc changed the direction and instead dragged her to where one of the staff photographers had set up a small shooting area. They barked orders at her on how to stand and move, and when she tossed her hair back she said, "Make sure there's a hair credit for Hilda's Beautilities."

"The point of advertising is that people want something," Marc said. "Trust me, your hair right now? Not worth advertising."

Pinching Marc's arm, she pulled him into a corner and said, " _What_ is your problem? Ever since I got this promotion, you've been downright mean to me, and not even in a fabulous or funny way."

"You got _my_ promotion," he said. " _Everything_ goes your way, and I can't catch a break."

"We were equally qualified," she said. "If it had gone your way, I would have been happy for you - why can't you be happy for me?"

His voice low and poisonous, he said, "You got the job because you and Daniel are _lovers_ , and because his name is on the building. Meanwhile, I've been Wilhelmina's gopher for _five years_. Think about that when you're being all Happy Betty at me."

"We are _not!_ " Betty looked around to make sure no one had heard, her heart racing. Only Daniel was nearby, and he was turned away; it was probably all right. "Let's just finish this, all right?"

"Exactly what I was trying to do before you manhandled me," Marc said with a sniff. "Here. I may hate you, but your hair is too tragic to ignore."

Moreau was already impatient, and the photographer only managed to get a few more pictures before Betty had to take the dress off. With a surprisingly impish smile, Moreau handed her what turned out to be a loose caftan. "I whipped up a muumuu, but I assure you, it is only temporary, and no one will mistake it for a circus tent."

Hesitantly taking it from his hands, she said, "Is there any chance I can change in the bathroom instead of being naked in front of everybody again?"

"Don't be tiresome," he said, but Daniel clapped his hands and ordered all of the people who had streamed in to see the finished product to go back out.

"Thank you," she said as she tried to be careful getting the dress off, but also get changed as quickly as possible. "And thank you, Mister Moreau, for the dress. I'll treasure it my whole life."

He nodded, accepting the compliment as his due. "I will dress you again, Beatriz Suarez de Solano. For now, au revoir."

Once he'd gone, she and Daniel were alone and she didn't know what to say. "So. That was... Unexpected."

"Betty, I'd just hoped to get him to say something positive about our fashion show," Daniel said. "I only got the meeting because he and my nana had a thing once. Our supplement--"

"Is no more." Wilhelmina stood in the door of Daniel's office, dramatically backlit as she stood with her arms crossed, the perfect pose for showing feminine power. "Do you think we're going to waste this opportunity on some dinky little insert? It's _Jean-Claude Moreau_ , and we have the exclusive! If he wanted to dress an elephant, it would go on the cover."

Daniel puffed up. "Betty is not an elephant."

Both women stared at him, then Wilhelmina shook her head. "I expect all the work you've done to be on my desk by morning. We're going to completely redo the issue to focus on fat women."

"You might want to think in terms of normal women," Betty said. "Or curvy. If you call our readers fat, they might not take it well."

"Thank you, Betty, for stating the patently obvious." Wilhelmina looked her over and shook her head. "We have a lot of work to do. Get to it."

As soon as she was gone, Betty sank down on Daniel's couch. "I have more sympathy for models now. I'm exhausted and I didn't do anything today but stand around in my underwear."

"I don't know whether I'm happy to be getting help or upset that Willi's taking over," Daniel said, sitting down next to her and burying his face in his hands. "We won't have to work night and day on it, I guess."

"Or we'll have to work harder than ever," Betty said. "You know Wilhelmina's going to try to turn this around to come back to the message that real women are gross and need to aspire to be like her."

Daniel nodded. "So what do we want to do first? We've got the whole magazine to fill."

"I was thinking we should include a biography of Moreau," Betty said. "And an interview."

"Marc got a lot of footage," Daniel said. "Maybe we could edit some together for an online thing, like a documentary."

Starting to get excited, Betty said, "I could write something like, my day as a model-slash-muse."

"Oh, and we should do something about lingerie," Daniel said. "There's got to be better options than plain cotton, and there was that talk you had with the assistant about proper bra fitting."

Betty turned bright red and looked away from Daniel. It took him a minute, but he realized what he'd said and started babbling. "Not that the cotton wasn't perfectly Betty - you know, colorful and normal, a bit plain when you first see it but really sexy in its own way, and oh God, I'm going to stop now before I sound any stupider."

She had to put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing at him, and her eyes were dancing when she said, "I wasn't expecting anyone to see my underwear today. All the 'better options' itch, so I save them for special occasions."

Shooting off the couch so fast that he almost tripped over his own feet, he said, "So, yeah, there's a lot to work on, but if you want to go home and change or whatever, you can go ahead."

"I'll just call Hilda and get her to bring me something." Daniel was acting very strangely, and Betty wanted to think of a reason why he'd be reacting like that other than disgust. She couldn't think of any, but maybe at this point the best thing was just to ignore it, and the stab of pain that it caused her. "I need to talk to Marc, actually. I need his help with something."

He said something, but she didn't really pay enough attention to know what. There was work to be done, and it seemed like mutual agreement to get it done separately. It was probably nothing, though. She was sure that once everything settled down from that day's excitement, everything would go back to normal. Nothing had changed.

***

Everything had changed, and Daniel wasn't sure how. One minute he'd had a best friend, someone he'd do anything for, and then the next she'd been naked and he'd been trying to stand behind something and get some kind of control over himself. And then, thinking back, it hadn't started then; it'd just become obvious that it was Betty herself that was hot, and not just the models that kind of reminded him of her. 

But he could have sworn - would be prepared to swear in a court of law - that he hadn't always found Betty sexy. He even dug out a picture of her from that disastrous photoshoot when he and Phillipe had set out to crush her. She'd been so awkward, so humiliated - but how had he missed that her breasts looked amazing? He scrolled through Marc's blog and, all right, the outfits were a series of disasters. It was easy enough to remember feeling horrified at what she was wearing. 

At some point he'd started to feel a sense of affection for her clothes, garish and mismatched as they were. But still, for the four years they'd known each other, he'd had no conception of her as a woman. She was just his personal Jiminy Cricket, chirpy and cheerful and steering him on the path to be a good person. 

He really, really needed to get back there. Now. Yesterday. Certainly well before having the image of her flash into his mind at exactly the wrong time, or the right time, leaving him feeling guilty as hell as he cleaned himself up, and incapable of looking at her directly the next time he saw her for fear that she'd be able to see his shame written across his face. 

That made things more than a little awkward when they were working together constantly. They probably didn't have to; there were plenty of employees at Mode that could take some of the load. Neither of them said so, though, and it seemed almost like they took turns coming up with some excuse why they had to work so much. She'd said once, near the beginning of the project, that all the work meant she didn't have to think about all the drama and how she could never figure out how she felt about anything in her crazy personal life. He'd understood exactly what she meant, since he didn't like to think of Molly and how little he'd actually cared about their divorce. It was like, having been prepared for her to die, he'd already said all his goodbyes and just needed her out of sight in order to be done with that chapter of his life.

Even so, there were countless reasons why he shouldn't think of Betty in a romantic or sexual way, and even better ones for never, ever doing anything about it. For one thing, his mother would kill him if he hurt her. Hell, he'd kill himself if he did anything to cause her even one minute of looking as sad and broken as she had when she'd been crying over Matt or Henry or even Jesse. And, the fact of the matter was, sooner or later he'd do it. 

He wouldn't mean to. He never meant to, and yet he'd still screwed up every relationship he'd ever had, of every sort. Even his relationship with his mom had taken a hit when he'd forced her to choose between having him or Hartley in her life. The thought of doing that with Betty, of driving her away so that she felt she had to leave him... He had to make sure that didn't happen, which meant he had to make sure nothing changed from the way things were PNB - Pre-Naked-Betty. 

***

Wrinkling his nose, Daniel said, "Really? This is where you're thinking of moving?"

Betty sighed and said, "It's not like all of us can afford million dollar lofts, you know. Some of us work for a living."

"I work," he said defensively. "It's just, this place seems a bit... condemned."

It was one thing to see possibilities, and another to ignore reality. "It's in a great location. And the rent is cheap."

"Not cheap enough," he said. "Seriously, if you need a raise to live somewhere else, we can figure something out. Just say how much you need."

Turning her head, she looked at him and said, "Daniel, seriously? When I almost didn't get this job in the first place because the magazine was trying to save money?"

"That was Hartley," he said, gingerly opening a closet door with his toe. "And anyway, you deserve it, for all the long hours. I should have thought of it sooner."

"What about Marc? If I can get a raise, shouldn't he get to be an editor?" A rat sauntered out of the kitchen, stopped to look at them, and then continued its leisurely stroll into the bedroom. Betty just stared for a moment, too surprised to shriek. "We are so out of here."

Daniel hustled her out, and they didn't stop until they were on the street. She was out of breath from running down five floors but he seemed just fine, which was totally not fair. "I need to join a gym."

"There's one at the office," he said. "See? Saving you money already."

She started for the cafe across the street, then stopped when she had the thought that they probably had rats there, too. "I know it's there, I just hate actually going there. Between the judging stares and the actually having to sweat, it's just not my thing."

"We could just close it," he said. "You wouldn't have to have anyone else in there."

Stopping in her tracks, she turned to him and said, "Seriously, what is with you? Is this because of Moreau and the dress thing? Because you of all people should know you don't need to suck up to me just because some designer's taken an interest in my clothes."

"I'm not sucking up to you," he said, his voice a bit higher than it should have been. "It's just... And anyway, he's calling you every day. That's not just taking an interest, that's... You could be a celebrity just from letting people know you're his protege."

"I think a protege has to be more like an apprentice," Betty said. "And that could never be me, anyway. I think he really just likes talking about himself for the interview and profile I'm doing."

Daniel raised a hand to hail a cab. "Whatever it is, it's working. This issue is going to be amazing."

"It is," she said. "Marc said they were going to leak some footage. I hope he remembers he promised to avoid showing my underwear."

"Uh, he didn't," Daniel said. "Remember, that is. It showed up on YouTube last night."

Betty slapped a hand over her face. "Of course he didn't. Promise me you'll stop me from ever reading the comments, no matter how morbidly curious I get."

"They were running mostly in your favor," he said, the tips of his ears bright red. 

"I don't know what to think of that. The idea of some perv getting off on a scene from my nightmares is really icky."

He stumbled and she caught his arm. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong!" She would have followed up on the obvious lie, but a cab finally stopped and by the time they were settled in, he'd regained his composure. "Listen, I was thinking."

"A dangerous pastime," she said automatically, quoting _Beauty and the Beast_.

"I know," he responded, completing the quote. "But still, I was thinking, why don't you stay at my loft? They finally finished renovating the building, but the lease isn't up on the apartment yet."

That made her frown, because there was only one reason for him to stick with the relatively dinky apartment: he didn't want to leave the place where he'd lived with Molly. Hesitantly, she said, "Did you ever find out what she wanted you to do with all her stuff?"

"She had me pack up some keepsakes, but the rest of it just got donated to her school's rummage sale fundraiser," he said. "The movers they hired tried to take my tv, which was awkward. I ended up writing the school a check just so they'd stop trying to hijack it."

"So... You don't have any furniture except your television?"

Shrugging, he said, "I bought a bed, but what else do I really need? Especially since I've barely been home to sleep in it."

"Daniel, you are super rich! You're not just super rich, you're super ultra _mega_ rich! Why are you camping out in your ex-wife's apartment?"

He looked at her like a fluffy bunny confronted with a snake. "Uh... I don't know? I guess I wasn't really paying attention."

"Seriously?" She had no idea what to say, or what her motivations would be for saying it. Instead she pulled out her phone and opened up the notes she'd taken earlier. "I've got one more place to look at, but the landlord can't show it to me until tomorrow."

"Let me know when and I'll come out with you," Daniel said. 

Her eyes met his and her demurral died in her throat as they just looked at each other. The moment stretched out and it seemed like there was some kind of connection, and electric tension that was building to something that she was scared to contemplate. She found that she was leaning forward, bending towards him like a flower to the sun, and it was only when his phone rang and the moment passed that she thought to wonder why on earth she'd done that.

As he talked with an advertiser, she concentrated fiercely on checking her email, including a series of increasingly caps-locked and profane messages from Christina, heavily featuring exclamation points and the name Moreau. "Christina's flying in. As in, she's at the airport and bought a ticket already."

Daniel raised his eyebrows, making a face as he tried to wrap up the call. Once he'd shuffled the person off, he said, "Run that by me again?"

"Christina wants to meet Moreau. And be part of the fashion show, but mostly she just wants to meet him and hand him scissors and possibly eat his brain, I'm not sure."

"Oookay." Daniel looked confused, but he said, "I'm sure we can fit her into the show, but you'd probably have more luck getting her in to meet him than I would. Did you say eat his brain?"

Grimacing, Betty said, "I'm hoping that was a mistype."

"Just in case, check her out before you introduce her," Daniel said. "We don't want to highlight a legend and kill him in the same issue. Space it out a bit."

"Very funny," she said, although she couldn't help smiling as she climbed out of the cab. "I'm going to run down to accounting. I had some questions about the budget for my dress's photoshoot. See you later?"

Daniel watched her go even after he'd paid the cab and sent it on its way. He spent the elevator ride up to Mode deep in thought. "Hey, Amanda? Can you send Marc to my office?"

He hadn't even thought of how that might sound until Marc came in almost as soon as Daniel was sitting down. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, come in," Daniel said, gesturing to a chair. "Have a seat."

"Is this because of the video? Because leaking a clip was totally for the benefit of the magazine--"

Shaking his head, Daniel said, "No, it's not about that. Well, sort of, but not really."

"It's Betty, isn't it? She said something, and now you're going to just ride to her rescue, her knight in shining Armani." Marc whipped out an inhaler and took a puff. "It's just not _fair_ , it's--"

"I'm making you an editor," Daniel said, because it seemed like the only way to cut off the flow of words.

It was effective, and there was a moment of silence before Marc said, "Come again?"

"Betty did say something - she pointed out that there was no need for the hiring freeze anymore." Daniel smiled as Marc's face softened. He had the fleeting thought that Betty would be proud of him. "You're qualified, you work hard, and you're always thinking of ways to make the magazine better."

Almost inaudibly, Marc murmured, "I do. I am. And I've got a fabulous sense of style."

"I sent an email down to HR - go talk to them after we're done and they can start your paperwork. I don't know what we can do about an office - you might end up sharing with Betty and Megan."

Waving a hand dismissively, Marc said, "I can handle the details."

"Great!" Daniel thought about asking Marc to take it easy on Betty, but he knew she definitely wouldn't appreciate it. "The main pitch meeting was this morning, but if you've got any ideas I'll be happy to hear them."

Marc nodded and started to stand, but stopped. "Actually, I have one. A profile on Moreau's newest muse. From a fashionista perspective."

Maybe he really should have led with a talk about being nice to Betty. "Are you sure it would fit with the tone that we're going for?"

"I'll have it on your desk tomorrow," Marc said. "Then you can decide."

"All right." If it was horrible, he could always kill it. Standing up, he offered his hand to Marc. "Welcome to being an editor. Now get to work."

After some effusive thanks, and some delighted screaming from just outside his office once the door had shut behind Marc, Daniel was left alone to smile before starting on some notes for one of the regular columnists. He'd probably get some grief from Wilhelmina for not consulting her, especially since he was depriving her of her assistant, but maybe she'd be mollified by the fact that Marc would likely continue to be her lackey.

Shaking it off, Daniel started to look through his paperwork, avoiding the computer as much as possible. He did _not_ need to watch the YouTube video again. Especially not at work.

***

Betty rubbed her eyes, dislodging her glasses. "I think we'll be ready to print in the morning."

"You should get some sleep," Daniel said, leaning back in his chair. "Go home, leave me my sofa so I can spread out."

"It's your fault I'm in your office," Betty said. "You're the one who invited Marc to launch a hostile takeover of mine."

Daniel laughed and walked over, plopping down on the couch next to her. "You know, I'm kind of the editor-in-chief. And I own the company."

"What's your point?" Leaning forward, she pushed her laptop to one side so she could start going through some photo proofs. "I should make this my new Facebook photo. It's a pretty good picture."

"Phenomenal," he said, not moving a muscle from where he was sprawled over the flat surface. "You know what I need? I need a bigger couch."

Poking his knee to get him to move it, she said, "You need a couch that has a back, not a giant padded flat platform. And an extra desk so I have somewhere to get some work done."

"Use my desk if you want," he said, his arm over his face. "I'm just going to lay here for a minute and see if my spine untwists itself."

She considered it, but the couch was big enough that they weren't actually close enough for him to bother her, and all her things were already set up. "Maybe in a bit."

The only answer she got was a grunt, and it wasn't long before he was asleep, his mouth hanging slightly open to emit a soft snore. She smiled lopsidedly, because he did look kind of cute like that, even if there was still a lot of last minute work to do. There probably wasn't any harm in it if they were late to the printers by an hour - she'd wake him up after he had a little bit of time to rest.

_This time their wedding had been perfect, unmarred by the presence of anyone other than the two of them and the celebrant. They'd said their vows and then retreated to their chamber, when he had begun his patient, loving instruction on the marital arts. Her body had responded to his touch as if he'd ignited a conflagration in her breast, a consuming fire that left her forever changed._

_She was cold now, and she turned to find his body next to hers, to put her arms around him and pull him close. They were both clothed again, and she couldn't fathom why they had bothered; she needed the warmth of his skin against hers. Slipping her hands under his shirt, she turned her face up to kiss the underside of his chin, covered in soft bristles from how long it had been since this morning when he shaved last, before their wedding and before his touch had changed her entire world._

"Betty," he moaned, taking her lips in a kiss so full of love and passion that she couldn't help but respond with the same. Her dress seemed to fall away, and the way he looked at her in the soft darkness made her breath catch in her throat, because it made her feel beautiful. His hands, big and strong and only a little rough, traced over her skin like it was made of the finest porcelain. The contrast between his pale skin and her dusky complexion just made her think of the old myths about how the sun loved the moon, perfect complements. He was a man and she was a woman and they fit together perfectly.

She didn't know when she realized that it wasn't a dream, that it was really his hands guiding her movements over his body, that the scratch of his stubble really felt that exciting when he was kissing her, that they weren't in a bedroom at Thornfield Hall but in his office at Mode. It didn't matter and so she didn't think of it, couldn't think of it, because everything that mattered was Daniel and the way he felt inside her.

It was only afterward, when her heartbeat was slowing down and reality starting to creep back in, that she had the appalling realization of exactly what she had done. She started scrambling for her clothes, trying to ignore the way her skin still felt ultra-sensitized and how cold she felt now that she wasn't pressed against him.

"What's wrong?" Daniel sat up, his shirt hanging loose to expose his chest and his pants pushed down to about mid-thigh. She held up a hand to block her vision, because this was _Daniel_ and she'd just ridden him like a racehorse. "Betty, are you okay? Are... Are _we_ okay?"

"How could you ask that?" Her underwear was nowhere to be found, so she pulled her dress on anyway, almost tearing the sleeve as she jammed her arm through. "Daniel, we just-- God, I don't even want to say it!"

Pulling his pants up, he said, "Betty, we made love. And I don't regret it, at all. I don't understand why you do."

"How can you not? Daniel, it's _us_. It's _me._ " She stood with her arms crossed, wanting to cry and desperate to try to hold back the tears.

"That's _why_ I don't regret it." In two quick steps he was at her side, but he hesitated in reaching for her, ending up just cupping her cheek with one hand to get her to look up at him. "Betty, you have to know that I love you. What could be more right than best friends--"

"Because that's what we are, we're _friends_." She turned away from him because the tears had started falling in earnest and she didn't want him to see them. It was a vain hope, but it was about the only claim to dignity she still had. "We're not like that. I'm the ugly assistant that you would never sleep with."

This time he didn't hesitate, just grabbed her arms to turn her around and then pulled her in for a hug. It made no sense for it to comfort her, but it did and she started sobbing against his chest. "Betty, you're not ugly. You never were, even if I was stupid enough not to see past your clothes."

She just cried harder and he held her throughout, stroking her hair and murmuring, "Everything will be all right, I promise."

"How can it be?" Exhausted from the crying, Betty stayed in his arms, drawing strength from the way he held her. "You can't love me. Not really. Not that way."

Daniel took her shoulders and shook her, just once. "Why? How can you doubt me, think that I would ever lie to you about something this important?"

"Because," she said, then took a deep breath. "Because you didn't love the girl with the braces that way. If this was real, if you were really a-- attracted to me, it wouldn't have had to wait until Hilda started blowing out my hair and Jean-Claude Moreau made me a dress."

The only thing that made it bearable to say it out loud was that she could tell it hurt him just as much as it hurt her. Her lips twisted at the thought, but she didn't have any more tears left.

"I should have," he said quietly. "I look at pictures and I wonder how I could've been so blind, but I don't know how to fix it. I can't go back and change things but, Betty, it wasn't the braces or the dress or the hair that changed anything. I don't know how to make you believe that, but it's true."

"I can't... Daniel, I can't talk about this right now. I just, I _can't_."

His hands tightened on her shoulders but then he let go. "Okay. Okay, but you have to promise... You can't leave me. Even if you don't feel like I do, even if you can't love me back, you can't leave me."

Part of her wanted to throw herself at him and just hold on until he stopped looking so lost, but she just gave him a brief hug before stepping back. "I won't. I mean, actually, I think I'm going to go home and get some sleep, so I will be leaving, but not like, _leaving_ leaving, and I'm babbling so I'm going to shut up now."

"Are you sure you can't stay?" She shook her head and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Okay. It'll be fine, right? You'll be here in the morning and everything will be back to normal until you're ready to talk about it."

"Right. Completely back to normal." Except that she was going to have to sneak into the house without any underwear on, because she couldn't possibly stay long enough to find it. 

***

The problem was that most normal mornings did not involve a search for underwear in Daniel's office. When it had happened in the past, it was for skimpy thongs in size zero, not for her own considerably more sensible hiphuggers. He wasn't there, so at least there was that mercy, but she'd searched all over the office and was now crawling on her hands and knees, trying to search under the furniture. She could have called Daniel first to see if he'd found them, but right now, that was not an option she wanted to look into.

"Look, Mandy, it's the lost Kardashian of legend!"

"Oh, it has to be," Amanda said. "Surely that's the only way a pair of big booty pantaloons ended up hanging from the light fixture."

"No, it can't be - no Kardashian would wear that much fabric at one time. So who else could have a butt of such proportions and be doing the nasty with our illustrious editor-in-chief?"

Looking over her shoulder, Betty saw her panties dangling from Amanda's finger, while Marc held her bra out. She groaned and dropped her head forward before standing up and snatching the garments. "It's not what it looks like."

"Really? Because the security tape was pretty clear." Marc held up a dvd and said, "They finally upgraded the system to stop using VHS."

"You wouldn't believe what we had to go through to get that," Amanda said. "The guy down there kept us talking for ten whole minutes, and he wasn't even cute."

Betty was horrified that she hadn't even thought of the security video, especially after that time she'd seen a video with Daniel and the lawyer from when he was fighting for custody of DJ. "How many copies are there?"

"Just this one," Marc said. "And maybe a spare in case either of you is ever interesting enough to blackmail."

Taking the DVD, Betty said, "I don't know whether to thank you or ask why you did it."

"You're so suspicious! What did we ever do to you to deserve that?" Even Marc stopped to look at Amanda, who giggled. "We were always total frenemies. It's not like anything we did was ever actually hurtful."

"Actually, Amanda--"

"That's not the point!" Marc held up his hand in front of Betty's face and then swept it down in a dramatic gesture. "The point is, Betty Suarez, that _I_ , Marc St. James, performed a service for humanity by keeping you from being the latest internet sex tape celebrity."

Betty frowned. "Why would you do that when you just put me on YouTube in my underwear?"

"Two reasons," Marc said. "Number one, it's good for the magazine to have the world know that a fashion legend remade a walking piñata into something that wouldn't shock and offend passersby. Having the same ugly duckling show up boinking the owner of the magazine? Not so much with the positive press attention."

"Also, we were kind of hating you at the time," Amanda said.

Marc looked at her quellingly. "There's that, but. You talked to Daniel about me, and you didn't have to. So... Thanks."

Still feeling defensive, Betty clutched her underwear and the dvd to her chest. "Well, you're welcome. You deserved it."

"And now we know - if ever we need anything, we just ask his _lover!_ " Marc put so much drama into the word, it seemed to hang in the air, highlighted, bolded, and surrounded by asterisks and exclamation points. 

Amanda reached forward and tweaked Betty's hair. "I'm okay with you having him. Just remember, though - I expect amazingly expensive gifts on every suitable occasion once you're married to him."

Betty and Marc both choked at the same time, but Amanda rolled her eyes. "You can start by buying lunch today."

Once she'd linked arms with Marc, they left and Betty just stood there, until finally she said weakly, "No one's getting married."

Hearing her own voice gave her the strength to see how ridiculous she was being, and she hurriedly stuffed the underwear and disc into her purse. It was a work day; she was going to get to work. Everything else could wait.

***

"Daniel, darling, an editor responsible for a publishing coup should not be moping." He looked up from where he was theoretically reviewing the numbers for the issue that had just hit the stands to see his mother standing just in front of his desk. He hadn't even noticed her coming in.

"I'm not moping," he said, hoping to forestall her. "Just thinking about what to do next."

She didn't buy it, and they both knew it, but she said, "What you'll do next is sign Mode on to co-sponsor the Fashion Cares fundraiser next week."

"It'd be good publicity," Daniel said. "Do we just send a check?"

"We present a check," Claire said. "And attend, making sure every seat at both Mode tables is filled."

Daniel nodded, the thought half-formed that he'd have Betty take care of it before he remembered that he wasn't thinking of Betty right now, and anyway that wasn't her job anymore. "I'll take care of it."

"Good," Claire said. "And now that that's over with, we can talk about what's really bothering you."

Much as he wanted to play it cool, she just gave him a knowing look and he cracked, thumping his head against the surface of his desk. "It's just, I think I need a time machine to fix everything I've ever screwed up, because that's the only way I see of being able to..."

"Is this about Molly?"

He looked up with a puzzled frown, not sure what had made her jump subjects. "What? No."

"Then what, my darling, is breaking your heart?" 

Burying his face in his hands, he said, "I'm in love with Betty."

"I knew it!" She started to laugh and he looked at her with every bit of his injured feelings visible on his face. Even as she cleared her throat and tried to look serious, he could see the barely concealed laughter in her eyes. "I mean, what a surprise."

"Mom!" 

"All right, so I'm not surprised. Have you told her yet? What did she say?"

Sullenly, Daniel said, "That she didn't want to hear it. That she wasn't interested in being anything more than friends with someone too shallow to have noticed she was beautiful all along."

"That doesn't sound very much like Betty," Claire said. "She cares about you very deeply."

"Then why's she been avoiding me ever since--" He cut himself off, not really sure he wanted to tell his mother what had happened. He had a hard enough time himself believing that it had been real and not just another fantasy. The hickey she'd given him was the only way he'd convinced himself the next day that he hadn't made it up, and he didn't know what he'd do once it faded away.

"Did something happen?" It was delicately asked, but Daniel's throat closed up and he could feel his face burning. "Daniel, please tell me you did not take advantage of a girl I love like my own."

Voice higher than it should be, he said, "I wouldn't! I didn't! She took advantage of me!"

"Come again?" She was leaning forward, eager to hear what he said, but he shook his head.

"I really don't want to talk about this. It's between Betty and me."

She pursed her lips as she looked at him, but finally said, "I think I'll ask Jean-Claude about making a dress for her for the gala."

"Mom, seriously, I can handle this," he said. "Don't butt in."

"Of course not," she said lightly. "I have faith that you'll make things right. You've got a good heart, and Betty's certainly not the kind of person who'd miss seeing that."

He wasn't all that hopeful about it, not after three days of Betty never being alone in a room with him and only talking to him if she had to. Trying to give her space was killing him, but he didn't know what else to do. If he pushed her, she would leave him, take a job somewhere else and never see him again. He couldn't risk that. Betty was the one person in the world that he wouldn't be able to live without.

***

Custom gowns, Betty decided, were a lot more trouble than they were worth. Especially when they were made in less than a week and so very little attention was paid to questions like, "Is my needle piercing human flesh?" or "Will standing in one position for several hours cause muscle cramps?" She really needed to look up the governing body for the Geneva Convention, but then again, Wilhelmina probably had some pull there. Certainly the way she treated the assistants that had tried to fill Marc's shoes would have landed her at The Hague otherwise.

"Betty, love, if you don't stand up straight, I will personally see to it that you suffer, horribly," Christina finished the seam she'd been working on and stood. "And there's a better than average chance that you'll flash the world your goodies. The man's a genius, but I don't think Monsieur Moreau's quite adjusted his design mindset to accommodate actual breasts."

Looking down at her chest, Betty said, "Any chance you could just maybe add a little fabric? Maybe a nice bow would--"

"Bite your tongue. This dress is perfect." Christina looked her over and said, "I'm tempted to ride in the limo with you just to make sure you don't put any creases in it before you get to the red carpet."

"No one's going to pay any attention to me," Betty said, but even she knew that was wishful thinking. Christina might have made the gown, but it was to a design drawn up by Moreau, and the issue with the dress he'd made for Betty had had to go to a second print run. 

Christina didn't answer, just walked around to check that the dress was exactly as it should be. Hilda had already done Betty's hair and makeup, and Justin had picked out her shoes and jewelry from the selection Claire had sent over. Any minute now, the limo would pull up and Betty would leave her house in Queens and go into the city to get fawned over and picked apart by people wearing clothes that cost more than her family made in a year, and jewelry worth more than she would make in her entire lifetime. She knew she should feel like Cinderella, but instead she mostly felt like throwing up.

"Remember, no eating, no drinking, and possibly no breathing," Christina said. "You can do all that when you get home."

There was a commotion in the next room, and then Justin appeared in the door. "Hey, Christina? Can we borrow you for a minute?"

When Betty started to follow, he said, "Not you, Aunt B. You look gorgeous, by the way. Just wait here a minute and Mom will come in with the camera."

"Okay, fine," she said. "I'll just sit down for a minute, then."

Christina popped her head back in and said, "No sitting, either."

Sighing, Betty checked that the counter was clean and then leaned against it to look again at the flowers Daniel had sent. She knew he was hurting - how could she not? It was obvious in the way he carried himself, in the way he couldn't quite meet her eyes even as he looked at her to try to find some sign that she didn't hate him. And she didn't, she never would, but she didn't know how to tell him that without talking to him about what he'd said. She'd waited so long, it seemed horrible to bring the subject up without having something to say, but she still had no idea how to respond.

She loved him, of course she loved him, but outside of her dreams she'd never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Her best friend, the best friend she'd ever had, but she'd been clear from the first that developing a crush on Daniel Meade was a very bad idea. 

It still wasn't a good idea, as far as she could tell, although she strongly suspected it might be too late. He was reaching out to her because she was there, and she was safe. He'd just been dumped, and she was just a rebound, the person who was most handy. If she let herself believe otherwise, she'd end up with her heart so irretrievably broken that it could never be whole again.

Touching the soft petals of one of the roses mixed with daisies, she wondered if maybe it was worth the risk. She missed him so much, and she couldn't forget the way he had made her feel. It had been like her body had been specifically created to have him touch it. Even if it all ended a week after it started, it would be magical while it lasted.

But what if it lasted, and she lived with Daniel for the rest of their lives, knowing she didn't have all of his heart because he still loved Molly? 

It was the same circle her mind had been making all week, and she pulled herself out of it to notice that Christina had been gone for a long time. She considered sneaking some food, but she really didn't want to spill anything on herself. Instead she went to the living room, saying, "Hey, guys? I think the camera is-- Oh my God!"

The others didn't look up from the screen, where Suzuki St. Pierre was standing next to a video display of her and Daniel. "Who is the mystery woman? Our sources say that this video was filmed in the Mode offices, meaning naughty Danny boy is once again mixing business with pleasure! But now the question on everyone's mind is, who is the delicious diva he's romping with - and how does Daniel keep those amazing abs?"

Christina and Hilda turned to look at Betty, but Justin kept looking at the screen. "You've got to ask him about his workout, Aunt Betty. He really is looking amazing."

"We shouldn't be looking at this!" Betty dove for the remote, confused and embarrassed. She'd watched the video that Marc gave her and it was from a different angle, one which clearly showed her face. This one had been taken from behind her, so that her face and body were obscured enough to keep the clip PG-13 - and to hide her identity, at least from people who didn't know her. 

The looks Christina and Hilda were giving her made it clear that they, at least, could identify her just fine, and Betty looked around wildly as if her dad would appear despite his being out of town with Elena. "Oh my God."

"I agree," Hilda said. "Can you believe that mystery woman? I wonder if she has any family that she should have talked to about something that important."

"Aye, or friends," Christina added. "Who desperately need to know all the mouthwatering details."

Betty was frozen in place, torn between running upstairs and hiding under her bed or just running out into the streets screaming until someone put her out of her misery. The two impulses kept her still until there was a honk outside and Justin leapt up. "The limo! Come on, we need to get some pictures - the red carpet ones will be fabulous, but they won't fit in with my photo album's kitschy theme."

That settled matters in favor of hiding in her room, but Christina took her by the arm and steered her towards the door. "Oh no you don't. I worked too hard on that dress, and you've worked too hard on your career, to have it all go up in smoke because you ducked your obligations."

"Besides," Hilda said, snapping a picture. "We Suarez women, we never run. Hold your head high and tell the jerks to kiss your ass."

The way she said it reminded her of when Hilda had been seventeen, heavily pregnant, unmarried, and still walked into school every day. Betty's eyes softened behind her glasses and she drew herself up, standing straight and tall. "Like this?"

"Exactly." Hilda looked at her with soft eyes and leaned in to kiss her softly on the cheek. "You're so beautiful, Betty. You just had to stop working so hard to hide it."

Betty's eyes teared up, but before she could hug her sister, Hilda pinched her. "No crying! You're going to mess up your makeup!"

"Come on, Aunt B, I'll escort you to your limo." He held out his arm and Betty took it, letting him help her down the stairs and into the car. She turned to wave until they were out of sight and then sat back, trying to think of anything other than Daniel and the sex tape and what she would do if everybody laughed at her.

She didn't notice the limo stopping and so shrieked with surprise when Marc and Amanda burst in. "Betty, it wasn't Marc! You have to believe me, he wouldn't do this to you!"

"Not without getting something out of it," Marc said, trying to seem superior. Betty could see the nerves under the facade, though.

"I know," Betty said. "It was a different video."

Both Marc and Amanda gasped, and Marc said, "You saucy minx! Just how many times did you and Daniel get in on in his office?"

"Just the one time," Betty said, looking out the window. They were in a long line of limos, queued up to discharge their passengers onto the red carpet. It looked like they were only about five cars back, and she wondered if she could tell the driver to circle the block so it took longer. Or, better yet, to take her home.

Marc and Amanda were talking about how there had to be another camera and who could have known, and they were crawling closer to the moment when she would have to step out of the car and face a barrage of cameras, all pointed at her. "I can't do this."

"You have to," Amanda said. "How am I going to ride your coattails to fame if you don't capitalize on your moment in the spotlight?"

"Where's your plucky immigrant spirit?" Marc put an arm around Betty's shoulder and squeezed. "Come on, you have to do this. Do you want to leave Daniel all alone to face all this?"

Betty's lips trembled, but then she pressed them together firmly. "He can handle it."

"Okay, then, think about the magazine," Marc said. "Print media's in trouble, Suarez. Anything that helps the magazine helps us keep our jobs."

"Suarez women don't run," she said softly. 

They were almost at the front of the line, and even as Marc said, "That's the spirit!" Amanda was adjusting Betty's neckline and fluffing her hair. They went out of the limo first, smiling and posing for the cameras before they turned to help her climb out. They kept standing next to her, whispering commands and using the occasional sharp jab to instruct her on the proper way to stand. People started shouting questions as they moved forward, but before she could manage to get her mouth to move, Marc and Amanda were declaring "No comment!" with an icy hauteur that would have befitted royalty. It lasted until they were safely inside, the doors closed, at which time the pair of them squealed and hugged each other.

"We are the best entourage ever!" 

Out of the corner of her mouth, Betty said, "Guys? People are staring."

That calmed them a little, but then they were ushering her in and it was a chaotic whirl of introductions and talking to people. Some of them were snooty, some of them were people she'd read about, and some of them were actually interesting to talk to, and interested in talking to her about more than just Moreau. The gossip about Daniel's sex tape rippled through the crowd, but it didn't seem like anyone was bringing up her name in connection to the mystery of who he was with. Maybe things would be all right.

The fact that Victoria Hartley was there, and smiling, should have given her some warning. As it was, she felt blindsided when she turned and saw Matt across the room, talking earnestly to Anna Wintour. If he was here...

There she was, wearing a red satin dress, her long blonde hair down around her shoulders. Betty caught herself thinking uncharitably that the dress was a good six months out of style, then realized with a start that it was the same dress Molly had worn to the MAMAs. It couldn't have been an accident that she was wearing it, trying to remind Daniel of a night they had been really happy together. Betty didn't know if it was to rub his face in what he'd lost or to try to get him back. Either way, though, Betty had something to say about it.

***

Daniel had never felt terror the way he did when he first heard someone mention the words 'sex tape.' He knew he had to get to Betty immediately, to apologize and to beg for another chance, but then his mother was at his side and he was meeting and greeting people, his eye always on the door as he waited for Betty. 

She looked beautiful, perfect, but she was always surrounded by people and it seemed like the more he tried to move towards her, the more people came up to him wanting something. He bristled whenever a man spent too much time looking at her cleavage, and it was almost every male that went near her, including some he knew were gay. 

"Mr. Meade, Mr. Meade! Is there any connection between the release of your sex tape and the your wife being here tonight?"

He didn't recognize the reporter, who almost certainly wasn't supposed to be inside the gala. "Ex-wife, and I didn't know she was going to be here or that someone was going to invade my privacy. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Who is the woman in the tape?" Security had finally shown up and the reporter was being discreetly hustled away even as she asked the question.

Even knowing he shouldn't, Daniel said, "The woman I love."

He walked away from the gasps, intent on finding Betty, but she was talking to one of their biggest advertisers and he couldn't stand the thought of any more small talk with anyone, if he could even concentrate on anything other than Betty and how amazing she looked. The bar was his next destination, but he stopped when he saw Molly, dressed just like she was the night they found out she'd gone into remission.

"Can we talk?"

He thought about saying no, but decided it would be childish. Instead he pointed to a door and said, "I think maybe we should try to find some privacy first."

Once they were alone, he waited for her to say something, but she stayed quiet, just looking at him. Finally, she said, "I guess I always knew you weren't mine."

"Excuse me?" Of all the things she could have said to him, this wasn't one he was prepared for. Then again, what was there to say, really?

"You and Betty," Molly said. "I saw the video. I heard you talking to that reporter."

Daniel's mouth tightened, and he said, "I was faithful to you. You can't say the same."

"Please! You were with her all day every day," Molly said. "Whatever she said, you did. Even our wedding - you said it yourself, it was her idea."

"Because she was always supportive of you, of us," Daniel said. "I wish I'd noticed her before I met you, and I wish I'd figured out what kind of person you are, but I was dumb. Maybe I always will be."

Crossing her arms, Molly said, "What kind of person am I?"

"A cheater," he said. "It's kind of funny. I can't count the number of times our advice column has said that any man who'll cheat with you will cheat on you. It never occurred to me that the same applies to women - another dumb move."

"That's not fair," she said, leaning forward to grab his arm. "Daniel, don't you see? It was all about you. I wanted you back, I wanted you to notice me again."

Looking down at her hand, he said, "And I wanted to talk to you and make things work. I wanted you to understand that I couldn't be irresponsible anymore - and a lot of that was because I _did_ marry you. I settled down, made a commitment, grew up... And then you threw it all in my face."

"Daniel, I'm sorry," she said. "I wish... I wish we could go back."

He looked at her thoughtfully, trying to see her as he'd seen her originally, when he fell so hard and so fast that he didn't care that he was betraying a friend. "I think you might be right."

"Oh, _Daniel_!" She started to put her arms around him, but he stepped away hastily.

"Not about that - there's no going back," he said. "I think that it was always about Betty. What I loved about you... It was a way to have Betty without losing her."

She slapped him, but he knew he deserved it. "God, I was such an idiot. Molly, I'm sorry - I hoped you could be happy with Matt. I thought you were."

"You're a bastard," she said, turning on her heel and walking away. Daniel let out a deep breath, completely at sea as to which emotion to focus on. Chagrin, hope, relief, shame... They were all there, and he didn't know what to do about it. 

Mostly what he needed to do was find Betty. If Molly had been in here trying to get him back, was Matt out there trying to do the same with Betty? The thought made him throw the door open a little too forcefully, and he almost knocked Marc and Amanda over. "What the hell?"

"Um..." Amanda looked at him with wide eyes, obviously not sure what to say.

"Betty's behind you!" Daniel turned around at Marc's exclamation, only to find there was no one there. By the time he turned back around, the two of them had scurried away. 

Shaking his head, he stepped back into the ballroom and adjusted his cuffs. Betty was here somewhere; he needed to find her, to talk to her. Even if he couldn't think of the right words to say, he needed to at least try.

***

Betty's heart thumped as she watched Daniel leave the room where he'd been talking to Molly. She hadn't been able to get close enough to hear anything, especially not without letting Marc and Amanda see her trying to eavesdrop. Things might be good between them right now, but they wouldn't necessarily stay that way, especially if they decided to be helpful. Everything was confused enough already.

Just as she was about to emerge from her hiding place, she saw Wilhelmina step out from the same door Daniel had come from, and she froze. Why was Wilhelmina in there? What was she up to?

Following Wilhelmina, Betty couldn't figure it out. Willi handed something to her assistant, who scurried off, but then for some reason went to talk to Claire Meade before joining Connor and moving to the dance floor. A bone-deep sense of distrust stirred in Betty, but there was no way to interrupt without making a scene and so she thought she'd find Daniel and talk to him directly.

It was probably wrong and unfair of her to give a little shriek when Matt stepped in front of her, but he surprised her, and also it seemed like absolutely everything was going wrong this evening, and having to deal with him directly was just one thing too many. Betty got herself under control quickly and managed, "Matt! Hi! You're looking... tanned."

"That happens when you're working outdoors every day in the hopes of making the world a better place," Matt said. "I saw the latest issue. Looks great - loved your piece about being a model for a day."

"Thank you," Betty said, forcing a sunny smile while she wondered if he'd always been passive aggressive and she just hadn't noticed. "I'm really proud of the dedicated work I've put in for several years finally paying off." All right, so maybe she was being passive aggressive, too. He deserved it.

He smiled, and she felt a pang of conscience as he said, "That's fantastic. You've earned every bit of it, which is why I think it's so great that I'm speaking tonight - I've got a big surprise to go along with my presentation."

"I'll look forward to it," she said. "And, hey, did you see we put an ad for Molly's orphanage in the issue? I thought, you know, whatever happened, you guys are doing good, like you said."

"You..." Matt sighed and brought his hand up to Betty's face, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone. "Betty, you're a good person. Get away from the Meades - they're just bringing you down, changing you into someone else."

Stepping back, she said, "Matt, please. I really don't think this is appropriate for us to talk about, especially here."

"Of course not," he said, dropping his hand. "Maybe we'll talk later. I miss you - I miss who we were."

Part of her really wanted to just say something snarky and walk away, but she sighed. "Maybe. Send me an email or something and we'll figure out whether there's time while you're in town."

"Don't forget what I said." One of the event organizers was calling for him to come to the stage, and he nodded before heading in that direction. "The Meades are poison."

"Ugh. What did I ever see in him?" Amanda shoved a champagne flute into Betty's hand as she joined her. "For you it's more understandable, since your choices are limited, but what was I thinking?"

Sourly, Betty said, "That he was rich and nice to you."

"Oh yeah." Amanda giggled and took back the champagne, giving Betty an empty glass. "Oh, well. Given that rag his girlfriend's wearing, there's obviously no benefits to dating him anyway."

"Obviously." Betty looked around the room, seeing if she could spot Daniel. He was standing near his mother, but his eyes met Betty's and he started moving purposefully towards her. 

Up on the stage, the introduction had finished and Matt stepped up to speak but there was a squeal of feedback and then a video was showing on the screen behind him. It was shaky at first, but then it settled to show Daniel and Molly, obviously earlier that same evening. "What kind of person am I?"

Down in the ballroom, Daniel stopped in mid-stride, looking like he was going to be sick. People were buzzing and talking around him again and he glanced over at Betty in misery before turning away. Several people were working on cutting off the tape, managing it just as the Daniel on the tape was saying, "It was always about Be--"

"Well." Matt's face was pinched and red, and Betty could see that he was angry and hurt. "I realize that talking about starving children and homeless families can't compare to the soap opera of rich New York attention whores, but that's okay. I came prepared."

The whole room was silent and spellbound as Matt held out an arm and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, as my contribution to this evening, may I introduce to you the newest member of the Meade family, my brother and Daniel's, Tyler Reece!"

A spotlight shone on a handsome man that had been standing in the back of the room and was now looking confused at being the absolute center of attention. Betty could see Claire Meade swaying as if she was going to faint, and heads turning towards her. Any minute now there was going to be a feeding frenzy, and Betty's mind raced as she tried to think of a way to give them time to think and deal with this newest revelation.

"Amanda! Get Marc to get Claire out of here. You go get that guy, the one Matt said was Daniel's brother. Meet back at the Meade place - we'll sort it all out there."

Betty didn't wait to get an acknowledgment, just started moving through the crowd to get to where Daniel was. He looked lost and confused and a bit sad, but he turned when she tapped on his shoulder. She hadn't known what she was going to say, but suddenly she knew exactly what she needed to do.

Closing her hands around the lapels of his tuxedo, she hauled him down to her level and planted a kiss on him. His mouth fell open, more out of shock than passion, but she still took advantage of it to deepen the kiss, sliding her arms up to twine around his neck. His hands landed on her waist and he lifted her up, actually pulled her off her ground and crushed her against his body as he kissed her back. 

It was hard to remember that anything existed beyond the two of them, but one very important fact broke through the haze and she slid her lips along his jaw until she could whisper in his ear. "We've got to get out of here. I need to make sure Elena knows to keep Papi away from the news or he's going to have another heart attack."

"What?" He looks utterly confused, and she felt a giggle coming on as she realized that she, Betty Suarez, had completely melted Daniel Meade's brain with her kiss. "Oh. Right. Are you sure? Because the press--"

"Suarez women never run," she said. "We hold our heads high and tell the jerks - and the paparazzi - to kiss our asses."

He lowered her slowly to the ground, smiling. "I think maybe the Meades could learn something from that."

"Damn straight." Taking his hand, she led him to the door, looking around to check if Marc and Amanda had followed instructions. Neither was around, and both Claire and the guy that was supposed to be Daniel's brother were gone, so she could only hope they had. Everybody was looking at her and Daniel, and she could hear the whispers and the clicks of cell phone cameras as they went. 

Going outside seemed like walking into a strobe light with the amount of camera flashes that they had to endure as they walked past. Betty quailed as she realized she hadn't actually called for the limo, but apparently either Marc or Amanda had thought ahead because it was there waiting for them. Daniel helped her in and then climbed in after her, closing the door firmly and letting out a deep breath once they were shielded by the tinted windows.

Now that they were alone, it seemed like neither of them knew what to say. After an awkward moment, Daniel cleared his throat and said, "Did you need to call your dad?"

"Oh my God, Papi!" Betty scrambled to open her purse, hitting the wrong buttons in her haste to dial. She meant to call Hilda, but in her panic she dialed her dad directly, and by the time she realized and would have hung up, he'd answered. "Hi! Papi! How are Elena and her family?"

"Put Daniel on the phone," he said brusquely, and Betty's heart sank. 

"Daniel? Why would you--"

In the stern tone that she'd known and respected as meaning business ever since she was tiny, Ignacio said, "Fashion TV just showed the two of you riding away in a limo. Now, mija, put Daniel on the phone so I can talk to him."

Daniel looked almost as wide-eyed and intimidated as she felt, but she handed him the phone anyway. "My dad wants to talk to you."

"Mr. Suarez, I--" That's about the only thing Daniel got to say. The rest of the conversation was basically a monologue on Ignacio's part, with the occasional "uh huh" or "yes, sir" from Daniel. 

When it was finally over, he handed her the phone and she put it tentatively to her ear. "Papi?"

"I'll be home tomorrow," he said. "We'll talk about this then, all right? I love you, mija."

"I love you too," she said softly. Once she'd hung up, she turned to Daniel. "What did he say?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Daniel said, "Mostly that he's disappointed, and that I need to do better, but he also wanted to know if I was okay after the big announcement about supposedly having another brother."

Betty put a hand over his, vaguely ashamed that she'd almost forgotten about that in the rush to create a distraction and get out of there. "Do you really think he might be?" 

"I don't know," Daniel said. "Mom was a bit too upset for it to be nothing."

"It's just so..." At a loss for a descriptor, Betty trailed off.

With a bitter laugh, Daniel said, "So much like my family. Maybe you really shouldn't have anything to do with me."

"Hey!" She crawled closer to him, forgetting all about the importance of keeping her dress wrinkle-free. "I needed time to think, but I'm still here. There's never going to be a time when I don't want to be around you."

"Betty..." He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her delicately, then again, his lips soft and warm as they pressed against her skin. It made her feel crazy and she grabbed him again to deepen the kiss. Soon she was on his lap and she had his shirt open and he really did look amazing. 

She was sucking at the base of his collarbone, where the ghost of a hickey had inspired her to revive her mark on him, when he gasped out, "Drive around."

Something about that made her frown, but then he buried his face between her breasts and nothing else seemed important. This time, there was no dream to confuse things, no hiding from him or from herself that this was exactly what she wanted. Daniel was frantic, intent, like he was trying to prove how good they could be together. She was just as desperate, and by the time it was over her dress had a tear in the neckline and Daniel's shirt didn't have a single button. 

As he kissed her lightly, she sighed. "We are so, so busted."

"Completely," he said, but he didn't look at all upset. On the contrary, he looked sleepy and pleased with himself, and he kept caressing her exposed skin and dropping soft kisses on whatever part of her he could easily reach, usually her shoulder. "Are you upset?"

She took the time to think about it, but ultimately shook her head. "No, not upset, just a bit embarrassed."

"Oh." Now he looked unhappy, and started to sit up. "Betty, there's nothing embarrassing about--"

"Our first time together produced a sex tape that made national news, although thank _God_ it was the non-porno version. Our second time together? In the back of a limo. If our next time involves bondage or a third person, I think I might officially hit the threshold for being kind of a slut."

Laughing, he said, "I think that only applies if it's with random people. Since we're together, it's just a loving expression of our mutual respect and attraction for each other."

Betty just looked at him, and he held up his hands. "Okay, okay. Next time, candlelight and privacy and soft music. There might even be rose petals."

"I'd tease you about being so sure there's going to be a next time, but I don't want to break you."

He dragged her up for a kiss, holding her tightly. "There is, isn't there? I mean, you're giving me a chance - that's what this meant, right?"

Ducking her head, she said, "I think you were right. Who could possibly be a better boyfriend than my best friend?"

"I love you," he said. "I do, I love you, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

"It took me longer," she said. "I guess we both had to grow up first."

Daniel smiled and it made her heart actually flutter, because it was for her, and it was completely sincere. She was going to do something embarrassing, like swear eternal devotion or propose they go another round, and to stop herself she said, "We're supposed to meet up with the others at your mom's place."

"Maybe we should stop by Mode first," he said. "I've still got that caftan Moreau made for you in my office, and I could grab a shirt."

"Sounds good," Betty said. "We can go through the back to avoid the cameras, right?"

Nodding, Daniel said, "Mom made sure there was a discreet way in when she was overseeing the security upgrade for the building. We'll be able to get in and out with no one seeing us."

As soon as he'd told the driver to take them to Mode, Betty said, "Security upgrade?"

"Yeah, she said it was too easy for people to come in and out - you remember, you had to go rescue Amanda from that security guard?"

"Yeah, L'Amanda. She's mean. Did I ever tell you about the time I had to throw Henry at her in order to sneak in?"

She hadn't, and the telling of the story occupied the rest of the drive. They were still laughing, with the occasional kiss thrown in, when they took the elevator up to the Mode floor and it opened to show that they were far from alone. Claire, smiling. Amanda, flirting with Daniel's new brother. Marc, pretending to retch. Even Wilhelmina was there, looking incredibly smug.

The elevator doors closed again while Betty was still frozen in place, and Daniel looked down at her with concern. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Yes," she said, but before she could dive for the buttons, the doors opened again and Marc was holding the door open and Justin was towing her out. 

It seemed like everyone was talking at once, but the one she picked out was Amanda. "Betty, this is Tyler. He's, like, Daniel and Matt put together with all the bad parts taken out, and he's going out with me later tonight."

"Hi?" Betty did her best to smile despite being rumpled, a bit sore, and sporting whisker burn on her cleavage. "It's, uh, it's nice to meet you."

"You don't look anything like what Matt described," Tyler said, shaking her hand. "Not, uh, I mean, it's a good thing. I mean that in a good way."

Daniel wrapped an arm around her in a kind of caveman possessive way that she didn't actually mind much, and held his hand out to Tyler. "Hi, I'm Daniel. Never heard of you before tonight."

"He's mine," Claire said shakily. As she explained about her history with Cal Hartley, Betty wrapped her arms around Daniel and tried to project as much caring and support as she could. Everyone was silent when she'd finished, even though while she'd actually been talking there had been whispered side conversations between everyone not directly involved. 

"Well. I guess I've got a brother again." Daniel held out his hand again and this time the handshake between him and Tyler was a lot friendlier. Betty's eyes teared up, even as Daniel said, "Although, do me a favor. If you feel the need for drastic surgery at any point, come talk to us instead of faking your own death."

Tyler looked confused. "This is all so unreal. Although it does explain why a woman I'd never met left me a $2,000 tip."

"Touching as this all is, I'd like to go home sometime before sunrise," Wilhelmina said. "Betty? Come along. That dress needs to be repaired in case we need to reshoot you in it."

Daniel bristled, but she met his eyes and it reassured him enough that he let her go without any protest, turning back to the conversation that Tyler and his mother were having. Willi gestured impatiently and Betty squared her shoulders, following her into her office, where the caftan was waiting.

As soon as they were alone, Betty said, "I know it was you that made that tape of Daniel and Molly."

"What's your point?" Wilhelmina looked her over coolly and then stepped behind her to undo the zipper on the dress.

"Why?" Betty gathered her courage and added, "And what do you know about the surveillance in this building, after the security update?"

The smile on Willi's face looked almost... fond. "Very good. There are two systems of surveillance cameras in the building - the old one and the new one. As for why I showed the video of that wretched schoolteacher pathetically begging for Daniel... I think you already know."

"Connor," Betty said as she carefully stepped out of the dress. "You wanted to prove what kind of woman Molly really is, and that he made the right choice when he chose you."

"You're damned right he did," Willi said. "No more Saint Molly. And it seems like there's hope for you yet."

As she pulled on the caftan, Betty said, "But why the leaked sex tape? What did I ever do to you?"

"If I was doing this as a move against you, don't you think I would have released the other version?" Willi shook her head as she picked up the dress and laid it carefully over her chaise. "Think harder. What was the result of the tape being released?"

"More publicity?" It was the only thing she could think of, although Marc had said that the publicity from it would be bad. "I suppose any publicity is good for the magazine."

Willi stood with her hands on her hips and looked over Betty. "You're growing up, Betty Suarez." She started to leave, but paused in the doorway. Even though she was turned away, Betty was fairly sure she could still see her out of the corner of her eye. It was starting to be easier to spot drama, and what did that say about her life? "Claire Meade would do anything to make her children happy."

She stalked out, every inch the perfect predator, and Betty clutched her head as she tried to think through what Wilhelmina had just said. Would Claire have actually done that to her?

Maybe, if she thought it was the only way for Daniel to be happy. She'd taken care to make sure only the people closest to her would be able to identify her on the tape; it was only her own actions that had started the press making the connections. And, without the push it provided, would she ever have taken the risk of being with Daniel?

Well, yes, but it would have taken longer, especially since there was no way to tell in advance that she'd get to see Daniel rejecting Molly. She didn't have to worry anymore about being a rebound or whether Daniel would go back to his ex if given the chance. Was it worth eternal humiliation?

_Please. As if any item of gossip lasts that long. You'll be lucky if Suzuki remembers your name next week._ The voice in her head sounded oddly like Amanda. Even odder was that it was a comforting thought.

"You okay?" Daniel had come in to check on her and she smiled as she saw him. 

"Your entire family is crazy," she said, sliding her arms around his waist. "Except maybe Tyler. He's new, he might manage to escape."

Kissing her forehead, he said, "Considering when I left he was asking about whether an evil twin with a goatee was going to show up, I'm not sure about that."

"I guess it just means that our families will fit right in with each other," she said with a sigh. 

"They already do," he said. "Think about it, Betty, all those problems newlyweds usually have - we already know everything about each other, and you like me anyway."

Betty interrupted with, "And vice versa."

"We're going to get to skip so much of that," he said. "And, Betty, it's going to be awesome, I promise."

Kissing him lightly, she said, "Even when we're fighting and driving each other crazy?"

"Even then. I'd rather fight with you than be with anyone else."

"We're probably moving too fast," Betty said, although it didn't even rise to the level of half-hearted.

Daniel just smiled and kissed her again. "After more than three years? I think it's more like we're finally catching up to where we should be."

Sighing, Betty lay her head against his chest and smiled. She thought maybe he was right, but she wouldn't tell him, at least not yet. First she'd tell him she loved him a few thousand times, and then they'd talk to her father in the morning, and then they could see what they wanted to happen next. "I can't wait for our future."

 

***

"I just want to make sure everyone who wants to eat has enough." Betty looked earnestly at the caterer, who was obviously impatient but trying to retain a veneer of politeness. "I'm sorry, but--"

"It's Hilda's special day," the caterer said in a monotone. "It's very important that nothing go wrong, because she's been through enough."

Betty paused, trying to recover from having the wind taken completely out of her sails. "Well. Yes. Exactly. And--"

"Oh, good, there you are." Claire swept over to take Betty's arm and pull her away. "Excuse us, would you?"

"Lady, you can keep her." Betty frowned at the tone in the man's voice, but he turned to get back to work and Claire continued to drag her forward.

Picking up speed, Claire said, "Hilda's about to throw the bouquet, and you're going to be front and center."

"Already? But I haven't even checked on the inventory for the wedding gifts!" When Betty would have turned to go deal with that, Claire just held tighter and pulled her forward. "You know, you're incredibly strong."

"I lifted weights in prison," Claire said with a laugh. "And you're stalling, Betty Suarez. Do you think I don't know you by now?"

Hesitantly, Betty said, "It's just, it's a big step. And I don't want to do anything to step on Hilda's big day."

"Who do you think sent me to come get you?" Claire stopped, looking at Betty softly as she stroked a tendril away from her face. "Betty, you are so beautiful, and surrounded by people who love you. Why do you think you have to make things perfect when all anyone wants is for you to be happy?"

"I..." Betty's throat closed up and she had to blink hard to avoid tears. "I don't know. It's just, it's what I do."

Giving her a quick hug, Claire said, "And it's part of why you're so special but, Betty, all you have to do to make today perfect is to be here."

"And catch the bouquet," she said wryly, dabbing under her eyes to make sure her mascara hadn't run. "Will there be a video of it released to TMZ?"

They'd never talked about it, and Claire's lips twisted for a moment before she said, "Maybe. If that's what it takes to make you reach out to take hold of your own happiness."

Quietly, Betty said, "And Daniel's."

"Yes, and Daniel's," Claire said. "But it's _both_ of you I was thinking about when I did what I did. I'd _never_ sacrifice your happiness for his - among other things, because he wouldn't forgive me."

Betty wasn't sure how to answer that, but the same reason why she'd never brought it up before kept her from pursuing the subject now. "It all turned out okay."

"Better than okay," Claire said, squeezing Betty's hands. "You're the best thing that ever happened to the Meades. I just wish Bradford could be here to see this."

The picture of Bradford Meade attending the wedding of an assistant's sister couldn't quite form in her mind, even if the assistant was now an editor. "Thank you."

With one last motherly caress to Betty's cheek, Claire said, "Come on. They're waiting for you."

"There she is!" Hilda's cry drew everyone's attention, and Betty stepped forward hesitantly as everyone looked at her. It seemed like a bizarre parody of having walked up the aisle in front of Hilda earlier, especially since someone saw fit to play a dance remix of the wedding march at just that moment. 

Daniel stepped forward to meet her, the garter just visible in his breast pocket. "Betty, I just want you to know, there's no pressure. If you want to, we'll do this, and if you don't, we don't have to. I love you, no matter what happens."

Her eyes widened. "That's not ominous at all. What's going on? Why would I feel pressured just because I catch the bouquet?"

"Because you're going to get married," Hilda said, coming to stand next to her. "Today, with all your friends and family here, and the paparazzi totally clueless."

Betty's head snapped around to look at Daniel, who blushed. "It wasn't my idea to spring it on you, I promise."

"But... What about a marriage license? And Hilda, it's your day, I don't want to horn in on your moment." Betty's mind was reeling. Sure, they'd been discussing getting married and Betty had complained about wanting to do it without half of New York and the entirety of the tabloid press there, but...

Hilda shook her head. "There's just one question, Betty: Do you want to get married, today? Because everything else is taken care of."

Looking at Daniel, who was doing his best not to look hopeful, Betty felt her heart turn over. "I do. Yes. I want to marry you, right now."

"I love you," Daniel said as the room erupted into cheers, even the people from Bobby's side of the family who didn't necessarily know who Betty and Daniel were. It was all a blur after that as they signed an application for a wedding license and then were immediately married by a justice of the peace and the priest who'd performed Hilda's ceremony. Through it all, Betty held on to Daniel's hand and to the bouquet Hilda had shoved at her, feeling lost and confused but happy, so happy that she thought she would burst.

Even sitting for formal portraits that Wilhelmina insisted on couldn't dim her happiness, and now it made sense why she'd been willing to come along as Marc's plus one. Marc was pointedly not looking at the photographer Willi had produced out of thin air, which got Betty's attention enough to register that it was Cliff, and he was also very decidedly not talking to Marc - while both of them used every moment they could to watch each other. Marc distracted himself by squabbling amiably with Hilda over which of them would sell a few candid shots to which magazine, although the high-resolution pictures would be a Mode exclusive. It made Betty laugh, even as Daniel swept her away to kiss her again, because he couldn't stop himself from kissing her every time Betty would look at her ring in wonder and say, "I'm Mrs. Daniel Meade."

Once the photographs were done, Daniel dragged her away from the crowds, hiding out in the hall near the kitchens. "I am going to make you so amazingly happy, I promise."

"You already do," she said, putting her arms around him and dragging him down for a kiss. His hands went around her waist and then crept up as the kiss got more heated and she slid her hands under the jacket of his tuxedo. 

How far things might have gone right there in the hallway was a question that wouldn't be answered, as the caterer's voice broke in to interrupt them. "Hey, you mind? We need to get the food through here - wouldn't want anything to go wrong with Hilda's special day."

Daniel started laughing, and Betty felt indignant for a minute before she started laughing too, and they were both doubled over and out of breath as they stumbled through the back door of the venue. "Let's get out of here," Betty said, tugging at Daniel's tie. "I want to see what it's like to have sex with my husband."

" _Betty_." He started to back her against the wall, the look in his eyes leaving her with no doubts about what he intended, but she stepped hurriedly away from him, heading towards where the limos were parked.

"Come on," she said, picking up the battered bouquet from where she'd dropped it. "The faster we get home, the faster I get to take this dress off."

Following her quickly, he said, "The faster _I_ get to take that dress off you. With my teeth."

Betty giggled as she climbed into the limo, then held her breath as she saw Marc talking to Cliff, both of them looking intense and leaning ever so slightly towards each other. With a look at Daniel, she popped out of the sunroof and yelled, "Hey, Marc!"

"Wha--" The bouquet just barely missed Marc's face, landing perfectly in Cliff's hands. Betty looked at Daniel and he stood behind her, lining up the garter on his thumb and pulling it back until he released it and it shot right onto Marc's shoulder. "Very funny, Suarez!"

"It's Meade now," she called back as the limo started to move and she lost her footing, tumbling with Daniel to the floor of the limo. "Or maybe Suarez-Meade, I haven't decided yet."

Wrapping his arms around her, Daniel said, "Want me to be a Suarez-Meade, too?" As she looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. "I just want to be yours, forever, and to make you happy."

Her eyes welled up with tears, and Betty kissed him fiercely. "I love you so much. Why didn't I see that sooner?"

"Because we had to be best friends first," Daniel said, kissing her back and fumbling for the switch to ensure privacy for the back of the limo. "It's the only way I'd ever have a chance with you."

Bumping her forehead against his, she tried to think of something meaningful and important to say, but what came out was, "You don't think Wilhelmina thinks she's going to get to do this whole wedding special issue without us, do you?"

Daniel laughed and kissed her instead of answering, and it wasn't long before Betty forgot about everything else in the world but the two of them, together.


End file.
